Shadows in the Night
by Gemmi92
Summary: He often watched her. He couldn't help himself. He didn't know what it was about her. Ever since he read her file, he couldn't help but want to know more about her. He studied her with intent, knowing full well that his observing could soon turn into an obsession. Crane/OC
1. Chapter 1

"I don't need therapy."

The elder woman sighed, turning her head to the side whilst she looked at the young woman who sat beside her. Horns were honking throughout the car park. Teenagers parked their cars and climbed from them, chattering about how their weekends had been.

"Yes, you do," the woman replied, her hands gripping tight around the wheel. "You know that it will help you, Vicky. You know that it will be good for you. We are trying to have a fresh start. We are trying to put the past behind us."

"Then why will talking about the past help to put it behind us?" she wondered aloud, tucking her dull brown hair behind her ears. She looked straight out of the front window, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the people who walked by the car.

"It will help bury it," she replied. "It will help us accept what has happened and move on."

"I have accepted it."

"No, you haven't, Victoria," she snapped back without a moment to pause. "You have done nothing about it. You have sat in your room and buried your head in the sand. You are not the girl who you once were."

"Is it any wonder?" Victoria retorted, reaching into the footwell for her satchel. "We've spent the last year in hiding. We watched dad being murdered in front of us. Forgive me if I am not all smiles."

"Vic," the woman sighed, leaning her head on the steering wheel. She knew how hard the past week had been. She knew how hard the entire year had been. None of it had been easy. "I am trying to get us through this. I am trying to build us a life which your father would have been proud of. Why can you not let me do this?"

"I am," Victoria deadpanned. "I am just saying that I do not need therapy. I do not need to talk to someone, mom."

"One session," her mother replied, holding a finger up. "That is all I ask of you. Please, Vicky, try it."

Victoria rolled her eyes and checked she had her induction papers in her satchel. Her mother remained sat where she was, looking at her with pleading in her blue eyes.

"Fine," Victoria agreed, shrugging nonchalantly. "I will go."

"Brilliant," her mother sighed with content. She leaned over the car to wrap her daughter into her arms. "Just remember to make friends, Vicky. You are majoring in Psychology. It is going to be tough...especially after this year...you need friends to help you through it."

"I know," Victoria agreed, looking out the window after she had pulled away from her mother. Her gaze focused on the vision of the brick building in the distance. She needed to go to reception before finding her way to the lecture hall. She didn't really know what she was going to do. She had no faith in herself to pass her degree. She knew that she wasn't clever enough. No doubt she would end up with a mediocre job not relating to her degree.

"Okay," her mother said. "You go in there and show them how clever you are."

Victoria forced herself to smile back at her mother's encouraging look. She didn't want to, but she did. Her mother kissed her on the cheek, informing her that she would be back to take her to the therapist.

She shut the door to the car and watched her mother drive off. She adjusted the satchel which sat on her shoulder and took a deep breath, wondering what would be lurking behind the closed doors of the university. She didn't want to move to Gotham University. If she had her way then she would still be in Illinois. Chicago was her home town. It was where she had grown up with her parents. It was where she longed to be.

Trying not to dwell on the past, she moved through the parking lot. One hand clutched tightly around the strap of her satchel whilst the other straightened out the flared pink skirt she wore. She walked slowly, looking around as people paid no attention to her. She didn't mind too much. She deduced it would be easier that way.

She walked into reception, declaring her name before being given a map and her timetable. She took it with a moment of hesitation and glanced down. She opened her mouth, about to ask where she should really be going. No reply was given to her, and so she took it upon herself to wander the corridors aimlessly. She supposed she was fortunate that she didn't have to live at the university. On campus accommodation was not something which intrigued Victoria, especially because she would have to be away from her mother.

She finally came to the lecture hall and looked down at the name of the lecturer on the sheet of paper which her timetable sat on. She pushed the door open, peering around slowly. She saw about seventy sets of eyes turn onto her, each scrutinising her as she looked back. She felt her heartbeat rise steadily and her cheeks turn red.

"Ah," a sudden voice called out. "You must be Victoria Martinez...the new student this term...moved here from Chicago. Is that not correct?"

"Yes, Professor Bramowitz," she agreed in a soft voice.

"Well, Chicago is slightly different in comparison to this, Miss Martinez. If you would like to sit beside Mr Crane, then he will help you get up to speed after class too. He is one of the best in the year."

Victoria looked to where the Professor was pointing. A young boy sat at the top of the lecture hall, away from everyone else. She nodded in agreement and began to move up the steps. Noises of 'ooh' rang through the hall and Victoria wondered what was wrong with this boy. The Professor began speaking as she sat down beside him, her gaze focused in front of her. He refused to look at her.

He had a pen in his hand as he made his own notes, completely ignoring what Professor Bramowitz was saying. Victoria dared to glance down to his notes, wondering what he was doing before she began to scribble her own notes. Her attention span only lasted half of the lecture. She spent the second half of it staring straight ahead, ignoring everything which she should have listened to.

She didn't care. She failed to care about functionalism or psychoanalysis. She had no interest in any of it. She used to. There was a time when she used to care so much about it all. She used to enjoy spending time in the library, reading about everything.

And then everything had changed. Her whole perception had changed and she didn't want to know about why people acted the way they did. It was as if psychology was an excuse for certain behaviour. Victoria couldn't believe any of that.

She snapped out of her own world as students began to leave the lecture hall. Her name was called out, along with the boy who sat next to her. She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She packed her notebook away before standing up.

"You're going to get nowhere if you don't make any notes."

She looked behind her as Mr Crane followed her down the steps. He caught up with her, easily overtaking her as she rolled her eyes and followed him to the podium at the front.

"Jonathan," Professor Bramowitz spoke. "Miss Martinez will be requiring the textbooks for this year. Perhaps you could show her to the library during your study period?"

"Is no other student capable?" Jonathan wondered.

Bramowitz chuckled, slapping Jonathan on the back. "You know that you can show her in half the time. Most of them haven't stepped foot in the library during their university education. Besides, I am sure Victoria will appreciate it."

Both sets of eyes turned to look at her and she startled. "Of course."

"Fine," Jonathan said; his voice haughty as he moved off from the lecture hall. Victoria followed him, always staying one pace behind as he led her through the corridors and the campus of the university.

He said nothing to her, choosing to keep his backpack on his shoulder and his eyes focused in front of him. She studied him for a moment, noting how he was well dressed for a student. He wore black trousers and a brown sweater over a white shirt. His hair was rather long and often fell into his eyes if he didn't push it behind his ears. His glasses were large and covered his vivid blue eyes.

"Why are you here?" Jonathan suddenly asked her as he stopped walking for a moment. She stood beside him before walking again, her eyes downcast as she shrugged.

"I had to transfer."

"I know that," he replied, his voice irritated. "I meant, why are you studying Psychology? You have no interest in it."

"I did," Victoria replied. "I just don't anymore."

"That makes no sense," Jonathan said to her. "Psychology is one of the most important subjects. It explains why people do things."

"It provides an excuse as to why people do things," Victoria said. "It gives pardon to things which should never be pardoned."

"Then why are you still studying it?" Jonathan asked her. "There is no point studying something which you are going to fail because you are not willing to learn. There is no reason for me showing you to the library. You're wasting my time as much as your own."

Victoria felt annoyance bubble from within her as she balled her hands by her side. She shook her head, looking around as people laid in the Autumn sun, the stress of the first week of college apparently non-existent.

"I can find the books myself if it is that inconvenient for you," Victoria promised him.

He said nothing back to her then. He kept his mouth shut, his blue eyes studying the girl next door to him as he wondered what had happened to make her hate Psychology so much. She looked around the library once they were inside again. She followed him to the top floor. The library was deserted. She had expected as much. No one studied during the first week of term.

"Here," Jonathan said, handing her two books he had picked out. She held her arms out, waiting for him to load them on to her. He did so without any concern of their weight. She struggled to hold them in her grasp as he noted they had managed to get up to her chin. She complained audibly then.

"You do know that a real gentleman would help?" she checked with him.

A snort escaped his mouth. "They don't exist around here. You'll soon see that."

"Hey!"

Victoria turned around and looked down the aisle. Jonathan groaned as he saw the sweater wearing jock move down the rows.

"Do you need a hand with those?" he asked Victoria.

She had no chance to reply before he had picked them from her hands. She tucked her hair behind her ears whilst Jonathan rolled his eyes and began to look at the books again. Of course she would turn red and begin giggling like a schoolgirl when Robert Preston showed his face. All the girls did.

"Thanks," Victoria said.

"No problem," he assured her. "I'm Robert. Robert Preston. I saw you come in this morning."

"I'm new," she said.

"He knows," Jonathan assured her, picking out another book. "He was there when Professor Barmowitz introduced you to the whole class."

Victoria said nothing back to that as Jonathan passed her another book. She held it by her side as Robert glared at Jonathan.

"No need to be so rude, Jonathan. Victoria is new. I am sure this is daunting for her."

"Oh, yes, I can tell how terrible this is for her," Jonathan said to Robert. "Her heartbeat is currently beating ten to the dozen and her eyes can't be taken off from your perfect blonde hair. No doubt her hormones are racing."

"No!" Victoria snapped at Jonathan as he placed his hands on his hips. "I was not thinking any of that."

"Of course not," Jonathan drawled, his voice slow and sarcastic. "That's the last of the books. I am sure Preston will show you how to check them out. I have work to do."

"Thanks," Victoria said as he went past her. Her thanks echoed in his ears as he left the two of them in the quiet section of Psychology.

If the girl had any sense then she would stay away from Robert Preston. Jonathan had been living at the university for three years now. He had been in Preston's classes for a while. He knew what he was like. He would find a girl, date them for a while and then cast them aside. How many times had Jonathan seen his latest squeeze in tears? He couldn't count. Of course, Jonathan knew what was wrong with the boy. He had commitment issues, that much was apparent.

But, Jonathan sensed that the girl did not have any knowledge of what he was like. She wouldn't listen to him, anyway. Why should she? She was not Jonathan's concern. He failed to care what she did.

He returned to the final lecture of the day later on, taking his seat at the back of the class. She walked in with Robert still carrying her books, laughing and smiling at whatever he was saying to her. She looked up to where Jonathan sat, a small smile on her face as she did so. He scowled back to her. He had intentionally been horrible to her earlier to keep her away from him. Why did she feel the need to smile at him? Was she a people pleaser? Jonathan certainly hoped not. He couldn't deal with one of those.

The rest of the class filtered in, but Jonathan paid them no attention. His eyes remained fixed on Victoria and Robert as she sat beside him. He was much more forward than her, daring the nudge her softly and causing her to laugh. Resisting the urge to throw up, Jonathan thanked God when Professor Barmowitz walked in.

He spent the rest of the lecture making his own notes and expanding on what Barmowitz said. He looked down and noted that the new girl was trying to make notes. Well, she made more than Robert Preston did during that lecture.

...

"The session is only an hour," Victoria's mother assured her. "And Doctor Barnard is lovely, Vicky. You'll love him."

"I seriously doubt it," Victoria said as she sat in the car outside the psychiatrists. She looked at the building she was about to enter. It was nothing extraordinary. It was simply a house in a row of houses, yet inside was different. She imagined plush carpets and sofas along with free coffee machines.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" her mother asked her. "I can sit in the waiting area."

"No," Vicky shook her head. "I'll be fine doing this by myself."

"Will you?" she wondered aloud. "I just worry for you, Vicky. You're my little girl."

"Honestly, I will be fine. I will be out in a bit."

"Okay," her mother agreed, kissing her on the cheek before she moved.

Victoria walked through the car park to the steps leading up to the doors. A bronze plaque sat on the wall, proudly announcing that the psychiatrists was registered and fully legal. Victoria pushed the wooden door open, looking around the reception area with intrigue. It was what she had thought it would be. She took slow steps to the mahogany desk, looking down at the woman who hid her face behind a computer.

"Hi there," she chirped. "Do you have an appointment with Doctor Barnard?"

"Yes," Victoria replied. "Victoria Martinez. I have an appointment at four thirty."

"Just give me a second," the woman said, clicking on the mouse and focusing on the computer screen. "Ah, yes, Julie's daughter. If you would like to take a seat and just wait for a few moments. I'll print some forms out that you need to fill in. They shouldn't take long."

"Thanks," Victoria said, moving to sit down on a leather couch by the desk. No one else was in the room as she folded her arms across her waist and pulled at her white blouse, making sure it was tucked into her skirt.

"Oh, Jonathan!"

Victoria turned around in her seat, looking back over at reception before feeling fear rise in her body. What was he doing here?

"Can you take these forms to Miss Martinez? I have to return a phone call."

Jonathan looked amused for a vague second as he noted the brown curls on the sofa. Her eyes were fixed on him as he wondered what she was doing at a psychiatrists. He said nothing, taking the letters from Molly, the receptionist, and moving over to Victoria.

"What are you doing here?" Vicky worried as he sat beside her on the sofa with the form on the clipboard. He handed her a pen and she took it, her eyes never leaving his as she did so.

"I work here," Jonathan said. "Some of us need money to get us through education. Besides, I get to help sometimes. It is extracurricular too. Anyway, I should be asking what you are doing here."

"Isn't there such a thing as patient confidentiality?" Victoria asked him, taking the clipboard from him and she began to write down her details.

"That is true," Jonathan said to her. "I won't be working on your case. Apparently it is labelled as a top priority. I will just be filing your documents."

"And you won't say anything, will you?" Victoria asked him, her timid gaze looking at his wide one. "I don't want anyone to know that I need therapy...well...I don't even need it...I don't know why I am here..."

"You're in the denial stage," Jonathan said to her as she went back to filling out the form. "It is common in most patients."

"I'm not in denial," she snarled at him, passing him the clipboard back. She ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it up a bit more whilst Jonathan watched her. "There is nothing wrong with me. I'm fine."

"Another sign of denial," Jonathan whispered, "always saying that you are fine."

Victoria watched as Jonathan stood up and checked her forms.

"You won't say anything..." she trailed off, looking at him with a pleading gaze. "Please, Jonathan."

He regarded her for a moment, wondering why she was in the psychiatrists. What did she need help with? What had happened to her? He didn't know, but he would find out.

"In case you haven't noticed, I am hardly the social hub of the university," he replied dryly. "Anyway, your private life is of no concern to me. I couldn't care enough about what you need help with."

She winced at the harshness of his tone but chose to say nothing back to him. He regarded her with a small smirk before walking away. He couldn't wait for Doctor Barnard to give him her file later on. It wouldn't be going into the cabinet until he had read it.

...

"How was it?" Julie asked Victoria as soon as she was back in the car.

Victoria slammed the door shut, remembering what Crane had said to her on the way out of the clinic.

'_I'll be seeing you in Psychology, crazy.'_

She was not crazy. She refused to rise to Jonathan's taunts. What had she done to deserve them? She had done nothing to him at all.

"He thinks that I am in denial," Victoria said. "I don't need another appointment, mom. I don't want another one. I can cope on my own."

"Can you?" Julie asked. "I don't think you can, Vicky. You've seen things the no one should see. You've been through a lot. I have, too. Just another appointment...it will be for the best."

"You said that one would be enough!" she complained to her mother. "I don't need another one. I can cope on my own. I don't need some shrink to tell me what is wrong with me."

"We'll see," her mother said, turning the engine on and throwing her Vogue magazine to the backseat. "Come on, let's go and get some pizza. You can tell me all about your first day."

Victoria grunted an agreement and turned her attention to the passing scenery, longing for her time back in Chicago again.

...

A/N: So, I have already written two Crane/OC stories, but I thought I would go for a third. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Much more to come, let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan filed away her documents later on in the evening. He had looked at her name on the front of it. Victoria Martinez. He placed the brown paper next to another file which had the same surname as hers. He resisted the urge to open it in front of the receptionist, choosing to steal it later on. He had seen her walk out and taunted her, unable to do anything but that. She had looked at him with a stern glare which only made his smirk widen.

"Jonathan."

Jonathan turned around as he heard his name being called out. The psychiatrist's place of work was simple. It consisted of a large reception desk which he currently stood behind, working out where all of the files went in the metal filing cabinets. The seating area was normally empty whilst people went in to speak with Doctor Barnard.

It was quiet. It always was quiet.

Doctor Barnard would sometimes speak with Jonathan, asking him what he thought of a patient's symptoms. He never said which patient, knowing that would break his promise to them. He was often amazed when Jonathan was right about everything. It shocked him that he could be so intelligent at such a young age.

"Yes?" Jonathan replied as Doctor Barnard stood at the desk.

"The girl who just came in said that she knew you," Doctor Barnard said. "Apparently you and her are in the same Psychology class. She's a third year, like you."

"She moved here today," Jonathan said with a curt nod of his head. "She seems on edge most of the time. Is there something wrong with her?"

Doctor Barnard's lips curled upwards as he ran a hand over his balding head. "You know that I cannot discuss patients with you, Jonathan."

"It was worth a shot," Jonathan said with a smirk back. He went back to his filing, listening intently to every word which was spoken to him as he set about his work. All he needed was a moment alone. A moment to take her file. He would have it back before anyone would notice.

"I suppose it was," Barnard agreed with him. "Anyway, she asked me to make sure that her attendance here would not be broadcast."

Jonathan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He turned back to face his employer and shook his head at him.

"She already asked me not to disclose information with anyone else," Jonathan said simply. "I told her that was not in my interest. Clearly she has trust issues. I suppose that is one diagnosis."

"Among many." Barnard whispered, thinking that Jonathan had not heard him. Apparently he was wrong. Jonathan smirked, wondering what had happened to this new girl. He wondered why she was the way she was. He wondered that about a lot of people, but most of them didn't need therapy.

"Anyway," Barnard went back on topic. "I need her file. I'm taking it home to make some notes tonight. I don't feel like working late."

A small part of Jonathan felt disappointment race through his veins. He said nothing for a moment or two, knowing full well that he had to hand the file over. It shouldn't concern him. She shouldn't concern him. She was none of his business. She was some silly girl who held no interest to him.

"Fine." Jonathan said after a moment. He pulled her file back out, looking at the small amount of paper which sat inside it before he handed it to Doctor Barnard.

"Thank you," Barnard said, opening it and flicking through it as if he were unknowingly taunting Jonathan more. "So you understand, Jonathan? Not a word about her to anyone?"

"I understand," Jonathan said. "She is no concern of mine. She can do as she pleases."

"She seemed a nice girl," Barnard informed him.

Jonathan picked up on the tone behind Barnard's voice and he arched his brow, wondering what the elder man was getting at. Jonathan had learnt to read people like the back of his hand. It was a skill which he had picked up from a young age. He thought it made him impressive. He liked to think that he stood out because of it.

"There is some form of hinting behind your statement, Doctor Barnard," Jonathan declared, his brow arched as he wondered what the man wanted from him.

Barnard chuckled again. "Nothing does escape you, Jonathan. One day you'll overtake me in this line of business."

"That depends if I go into the private practice route," Jonathan spoke back. "Anyway, what is it that you want with the girl?"

"I want nothing," Barnard assured Jonathan. "I just...well...seeing as how you are so close to her-"

"-I've known her a day," Jonathan replied. "I am hardly close to her. Besides, I really couldn't get along with her when I showed her to the library today. So, no, in answer to your apparent question, I will not look out for her and try to befriend her."

Barnard pursed his lips, his eyes widening in shock as he heard the rant which had just escaped Jonathan's mouth. He kept quiet for a few seconds, watching as the boy pushed his glasses further onto his nose and he sighed.

"I cannot make you do anything, Jonathan," Barnard said. "I assume you know more about her than your classmates. Besides, it is not your place to look out for her. I was silly in asking it."

"Yes," Jonathan agreed with him, his voice snide. "I should go. I need to walk back to campus, and Molly left so it must be past six."

"Because Molly never slacks," Barnard said, smirking once more in a feeble attempt to make Jonathan forget his earlier comments. "Yes, you should go. I shall see you in a few days."

"Friday," Jonathan clarified and picked up his bag from the floor. He draped it over his shoulder before moving out of the door to reception. He said nothing further to Doctor Barnard, choosing to keep his mouth closed as he wondered why the man would want him to befriend the girl. Was he trying to help her? Did Barnard honestly think that having Jonathan as a friend would make her any better?

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as his feet hit the footpath and he walked back to his dorm for another night of studying.

...

Jonathan's idea of purgatory was almost coming true. Professor Bramowitz was slowly seeing to that. Jonathan didn't know what he was going to do. He had thought that the Professor was simply playing a sick joke on him. Was this girl so incapable of teaching herself Psychology? Was she so incapable that she could not sit and read the textbook he had given her about Freud?

He had been told that Miss Martinez needed extra tutoring after the first week. She had handed in her first essay and had barely managed to scrape fifty per cent. Jonathan had rolled his eyes and sniggered until Bramowitz had suggested that he help her.

He supposed that was what happened when you became the top student.

And so that was how Jonathan found himself in agreement to meet her outside the library ten minutes after class.

"No, mom."

Jonathan watched on as he walked closer to the library, seeing Victoria stood there with her cell pressed to her ear. She spoke with haste down the phone as her gaze looked up and finally found Jonathan stood in front of her, his eyes narrowed and his brow arched. He clearly was not in a patient mood.

"It was fifty per cent...well...no, it wasn't good enough apparently. It was only a practice essay. I will do better...no...I don't need extra tutoring. I'm just staying behind for a few hours to study on my own. I know where I went wrong and it won't happen again."

Jonathan looked at her with suspicion, wondering why she was lying to her mother. He observed her further, knowing that something wasn't quite right with her at that moment in time.

"Yes, can you pick me up in an hour?" she wondered from her mother. "Yes...in the car park...okay...I love you, too."

She hung up abruptly and dropped her phone into her satchel. She folded her arms over her chest before looking at where Jonathan stood across from her.

"I didn't know that you were a compulsive liar," Jonathan informed her.

"I'm not," she replied. "I didn't want her to know that I needed tutoring...I don't...I would have been fine without this."

"Would you?" Jonathan asked her. "Well, I should go then, you're clearly not interested in help."

"No," Victoria shook her head hastily, knowing full well that she did need help. She needed as much help as possible. "I'm sorry...I meant that...well...maybe I do need some help...just someone to explain things to me."

"Do you think I have time to explain the whole of Freud's theory of psychoanalysis to you?" Jonathan asked from her.

He folded his arms across his chest, his shirt poking out from the sweater he wore whilst he looked at her with a quizzing gaze.

"No," she admitted to him. "I meant...just...I don't know what I need help on. I haven't opened a psychology text book in the past several months."

"Why not?" Jonathan wondered.

"It doesn't matter," she said, unable to believe that she had forgotten so much that she had learned. She supposed it was true that you had to constantly use your brain to make sure you remembered things.

"I take it that it is something to do with your need for therapy."

"I do not-"

"-Need therapy," Jonathan finished off her sentence before he walked past her. "Of course not. Your denial is quite persistent."

"I am not-"

"-In denial," he finished off her sentence once more. She glowered at him before walking beside him and into the library. "Do you know how stereotypical you are?"

"Whatever you say," she said to him with a nonchalant shrug. She didn't have time to argue with him. Jonathan led the way into the building, walking up the steps to the top floor for the second time in the past week. She followed obediently, yawning as she heaved herself up the stairs.

He found a desk at the end of the Psychology section and dumped his bag down onto it, watching as Victoria took the seat next door to him. She settled down and pulled out her essay paper, looking at all of the red pen marks on it where Professor Bramowitz had edited it.

"Do you intend to pass me that?" Jonathan asked, his voice a small snarl.

She rolled her eyes and handed him the paper, looking around and noticing how the library was deserted. What did she expect? It was the first week of term and no one wanted to work yet. She was amazed that she had been set an essay so early on in the week. Then again, she was in her final year which meant having to work instead of going out and drinking every night.

She said nothing for a few seconds before she heard her phone begin to bleep. Jonathan bit down on his tongue, an annoyed glance moving from his eyes to look at her as she pulled her phone from her satchel.

He could vaguely see who the message was from as she began to click on the buttons ferociously, eager to respond to Robert Preston.

"You're his twelfth girlfriend in the past two years," Jonathan said to her.

"Excuse me?" she replied, closing her phone and resting it on the desk. She moved her gaze to look at him, her brow arched as she did so.

"Preston," Jonathan clarified. "I assume he's asked you out. He only asks certain kind of girls out, but you've broken the mould."

"I'm not dating him."

"I'll give it a week," Jonathan muttered and picked up his own pen, scribbling on the paper in front of him at another mistake she had made.

She frowned. "I don't see how it is any of your business."

"You're right, it isn't," Jonathan assured her. "I thought you should know about him."

"You seem to know a lot about him," Victoria said. "Anyway, I'm not interested in him."

For a moment he seemed perplexed at her sudden declaration. He wondered if he had heard her correctly.

"What is it that didn't interest you?" Jonathan wondered, scribbling out a sentence harshly. "His good looks or impeccable manners?"

"He's high maintenance," Victoria shrugged. "Besides, I'm here to study, not find a husband."

"I think you would have more luck with the latter if this essay is anything to go by," Jonathan sneered and shook his head. He was surprised she had managed fifty per cent. Bramowitz must have been feeling generous on the new girl.

Victoria clenched her hands into fists as she leant back in her seat and then opened her text book, proceeding to flip through it at a leisurely pace.

"Well...I need to try and pass this course," Victoria complained. "Even if I don't want a job in Psychology."

"What part of you thought this was a good essay to hand in?" Jonathan wondered from her, ignoring her previous comments. He didn't care what she needed. It was none of his business. "Here," Jonathan spoke, moving into his bag and pulling his own essay from it. He passed it to her and took a moment to silently gloat at her look of shock.

"How did you get ninety four per cent?" she wondered from him.

"Unlike you, I have dedication," Jonathan said. "I've been reading about psychology for a long time. I doubt anyone will be as good as me, so try not to be too disheartened."

"Gosh, you're so modest," Victoria muttered before reading through his essay.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "I don't need to be modest. Anyway, are you seeing where you went wrong? We do have another essay to write, so I would like to leave some time tonight."

"Yes," she grumbled. "I can see where I went wrong...although I don't think I went right if your essay is anything to go by."

"Your mistakes are quite juvenile. Perhaps you weren't thinking about what you were writing whilst you did this...maybe that's what happens when you attend therapy."

Victoria thought that she had done well to avoid the topic so far. She wondered if he really would leave her alone. She pushed a shaking hand through her hair and forced herself to shrug in response to him. Jonathan said nothing, waiting for her to be the first one to speak.

"I don't intend to be go to therapy for long," she assured him. "Besides, I really don't need it."

"Why are you having it then?"

"Because my mother thinks it is a good idea," Victoria replied before biting the lid to her pen. Her teeth scraped over the plastic whilst Jonathan observed her for another few minutes.

"Just your mother?"

"Excuse me?"

"Does your father not think it is a good idea?" Jonathan asked her.

She took a moment to stare at him again, her eyes widening with every passing second as she heard what he had said to her. She shook her head, still struggling to answer him. Did he know? Had Doctor Barnard told him about her? Why would he ask about her father?

"It is a simple question," Jonathan replied.

"Are you trying to get a rise out of me?" she wondered. "You know, don't you?"

"What?" Jonathan snapped back hastily. "I don't know anything. I was asking you a question."

She studied him for a moment, wondering if he was telling her the truth. She wondered if he was speaking sense to her, or if he did know what had happened.

"No," she said. "My dad isn't around anymore."

Jonathan interpreted her words, finally coming to the conclusion that her father was deceased. She wouldn't have had tears in her eyes if it was anything else. And she wouldn't have spoken to him in such a depressed tone. If her father had abandoned her then she would be angry, not sad. However, many children lost their parents.

Jonathan was one of them.

He never went to therapy.

"I see," Jonathan said. He didn't bother to offer her his condolences. He didn't understand what good they would do her. His being sorry would not make her feel any better.

She coughed into her palm. "I guess that explains a bit more then."

"A bit," Jonathan repeated to her. "Anyway, we should get on with this work. Your mother should be here soon and you would hate to have to lie to her anymore."

"I'm not in the mood," Victoria shook her head, clearing her books away as depression took over her. She recalled that night which never stopped replaying in her dreams. The nightmare which kept her awake in the dark, wondering how anyone could be so cruel.

"You wasted my time in dragging me to the library," Jonathan said through ground teeth. "The least you can is stay here so that my time is used as intended."

"You said it yourself that you didn't have time to teach me everything," Victoria replied and she pulled at the cuffs of her jacket. "I can manage on my own."

"Is this because I brought your father into conversation?" Jonathan enquired, unable to stop himself. "How did he die?"

"No. This has nothing to do with my father."

"You really are a compulsive liar," Jonathan examined and she stood up. Her chair scraped out behind her as she messed with the strap of her bag, trying to find the right one to put over her shoulder.

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped out at him. "You do know that it is common courtesy not to push someone, don't you? Or are your social skills lacking that much?"

Jonathan couldn't help but smirk at her. But his smirk only seemed to add fuel to the fire which was her anger. She folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head as she did so. How could he sit there and smirk? Was it a game to him? Was he that sick?

She didn't know. She didn't want to know. She couldn't stand Jonathan; that much was apparent.

"I was simply intrigued," Jonathan assured her. "It is not my fault that you have reacted in this manner."

"It is not your right to be intrigued. I don't owe an explanation to you. I don't owe you anything."

Jonathan watched as she looked to the ceiling, her own smile of disbelief on her face. She was crying now. She was fully crying with tears falling down her cheek, rolling onto her white blouse.

"Just leave me alone," she urged him. "Please...just leave me be..."

"I didn't realise that I had the power to affect you so," Jonathan muttered. "You must be mentally unstable."

Victoria glowered for a few moments, thinking of what she could say to him. Nothing came to mind. She had no response to him. She didn't need to say any more. He'd only taunt her further if she did.

"I'm going," she said. "I'll see you in Psychology."

Jonathan remained mute, his eyes watching after her as she stormed off and away from him. He hadn't purposefully said anything to get a rise out of her. Normal people would have snapped back, managing to hold their emotions to themselves. But she was not normal. She tried to deny that nothing was wrong. But he could see through that. He could see that she was damaged.

He just wondered to what extent.

Jonathan moved from the library, knowing that he did not need to be there when he had all of his books at home. He walked out slowly, moving along the quiet campus before he noted her leant against the wall, doubled over and clutching her stomach.

He passed her one swift glance before continuing on with his walk. At least one good thing came from his time in the library; he doubted she would want him to tutor her again.

...

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the overwhelming response via PM's, reviews, favourites and follows! It really does mean a lot and I hope you'll keep reading!


	3. Chapter 3

It was the following dinnertime when Jonathan saw Victoria again. She was sat by herself in one of the many student cafeterias on campus. It was the one closest to Psychology, and the one which Jonathan always used in between lectures. He had been in one of his lectures that morning, but had failed to see Victoria turn up.

He took hold of his usual lunchtime snacks before queuing up to pay for them. No one spoke to him, or acknowledged his presence. Jonathan had gotten used to that. He had not made friends during his time in college, choosing to distance himself and study instead. He knew that people whispered behind his back about his odd behaviour, but he failed to care. He would do something with his life, in comparison to half of the college.

"Hey."

Jonathan had to do a double take to make sure that the greeting had been aimed at him. Looking to his left he noted her stood there, a bottle of water held in her hands and a satchel sat on her shoulder. He arched a brow, not bothering to return her greeting. He didn't think he would be seeing her again.

"Look...about last night..." she trailed off, twirling the bottle of water in her hands as she bit down on her bottom lip and stared at Jonathan. "I sort of...well...I'm not apologising."

"Then why are you here?" Jonathan wondered from her. "I am not the one who owes you an apology. I did nothing. You were the one who acted irrationally."

She frowned. "That's harsh."

"Yet true," Jonathan spoke, moving further down the line of people as they paid for their food. "I simply asked you a question."

"After becoming quite aware that I didn't want to talk about it," Victoria replied. "But, you asked me anyway, didn't you?"

Jonathan couldn't deny that. He had known that she didn't want to talk about it with him. He could easily have seen that. What did confuse him was why she was standing, talking to him about it.

"Anyway," she shook her head, "I just want to forget about it, okay?"

"Why?" Jonathan asked her the simple question.

Rolling her eyes, she looked up to the ceiling in utter disbelief. He really just could not let her be.

"Because I don't like to think about what has happened. Besides, it really isn't any of your business. I don't want to make any enemies here. I'm new...and just want to get my degree."

"You think I could be your enemy?" Jonathan wondered; amusement back in his tone as he reached into his trouser pocket. He pulled out his wallet as Victoria dug around in her satchel for her purse. She pulled it out and looked for the necessary amount of change.

"Enemy is a bit strong," Victoria said. "Perhaps we could easily fall out."

"Why do you care?" Jonathan wondered from her. "You know I am not the class socialite. You know that, yet you insist on trying to appease me. Are you really that much of a people pleaser?"

"I thought it was considered polite to try and clear the air between people," Victoria drawled back. "Of course, you can correct me if I am wrong. Besides, you know more about me than most people. I just want for that information to be kept between us."

Jonathan grinned and handed the woman behind the till his cash. Victoria followed suit, walking back to the table she had previously been sat on. She resumed her seat, looking at the textbooks which had been splayed all over. Jonathan took a moment to hesitate before finally deciding to sit opposite her.

"You're trying to keep me on side because I know about your little therapy issue," Jonathan declared to her.

She rolled her eyes, trying not to become infuriated with the boy sat opposite her.

"Obviously," she spoke. "Can you blame me? It is a big thing. Most of the class think I'm odd enough already. I don't need more fuel being added to their cause."

"How do you know what they think?"

"I openly rejected Robert Preston's advances," she reminded him. "Most of the girls think I'm foolish and stuck up for doing that, and most of the boys are his friends. It isn't like I live on campus so I have no other friends."

Jonathan took in her words for a few moments, nodding as he thought about what she had said. He supposed she had a point.

"You don't really try to make friends though," he pointed out to her as she shook her head.

"Apparently not," she replied. "Anyway, don't you have work to be doing? Professor Bramowitz set us that essay."

"Trying to get rid of me?" Jonathan asked to receive no reply. "I finished the essay last night. It wasn't as difficult as you seem to believe it is."

"I might not think it is difficult," she muttered to him and he snorted in response. She looked up from the book she had been studying as he stood up and looked back down at her.

"Of course not," Jonathan agreed in a sarcastic manner. "Besides, you're on the wrong chapter. Chapter twenty three is much more in depth."

Victoria flicked through to the chapter he had said and sighed, noticing he was right. She looked up to throw back some scathing comment to him, but had no chance for he was walking out the cafeteria and back to his own dorm.

...

Jonathan spent the next few weeks sat in lectures by himself; watching Professor Bramowtiz with intrigue as he learnt about things he already knew. Jonathan was well aware that he was far too advanced to be in such a class. He kept quiet, often finding his gaze focused on the girl who sat in the row in front of him. She had been quiet for the past few weeks after she had declared she didn't want to argue with Jonathan. He had said nothing in response to her, choosing to keep his distance.

He did know that she was still attending therapy though. He often saw her there, sat in the waiting area for Doctor Barnard to go to her. Jonathan had not been able to get his hands on her file for the good Doctor often took it away before he had the chance to place it where it belonged.

It wasn't until she received her third paper did she speak to him again.

"I need help."

Jonathan looked up from the book he had been reading. His dorm had decided it would be necessary to invite the drinking society around that evening, which meant too much noise for Jonathan to cope with. That was how he found himself sat in the quiet library, the books his only company as she stood in front of him. He wondered what she was doing there so late at night.

"You've come crawling back," Jonathan declared, a small grin pulling up his plump lips. "Why are you here so late?"

"My mom leant me the car so that I could study late. She's having some friends around tonight. I didn't want to be in the way," Victoria informed him in a moment.

He nodded in agreement. "What appears to be your problem?"

"I managed to scrape forty per cent in the last essay," she complained, sitting down beside Jonathan at the desk. She handed him the paper and watched him with interest for a moment. It still shocked him how terrible she was at a subject she had loved once before.

"How have you passed the previous two years?" he asked out of interest.

"Good question," she muttered. "I don't know. Is there anything more that I can do? I try, but nothing goes in. As soon as he sets the essay and times us, I know that I am doomed."

"Have you thought about dropping out?" Jonathan wondered. "Honestly, I have no idea how you can be failing. There is only so much that I can do, besides, I do have my own work to worry about."

"Please," she spoke softly. "I asked Professor Bramowitz and he recommended you. You know that I would never have asked unless I was desperate."

"What a charming way with words you have," Jonathan drawled back to her and she rolled her eyes, tiring of his attitude.

"Do you want me to tell Bramowitz how unwilling his favourite pupil was to help another pupil in need?"

Jonathan frowned before an amused look came onto his face. "Is that an attempt at blackmail?"

"Did it work?"

"Not in the slightest," he said back to her.

She could say nothing more before they heard the whirling of an alarm enter their ears. Victoria winced at the harsh noise, covering her ears with her hands as Jonathan rolled his eyes and stood up, gathering his belongings.

"Fire alarm on a Friday night," he complained above the noise he could hear. "Apparently there are plenty of drunken students out there to set it off."

"Does this happen often?" Victoria called out to him as they entered the stairwell. Some other students joined them, walking at a leisurely pace until they came to the ground floor.

"A few times," Jonathan admitted to her. "You will find that Gotham University is not renowned for its prestigious students."

"It will be first years," Victoria said, stepping out into the cold air. She looked around and crossed her arms over her chest as they watched the library building for any sign of activity. A few members of staff rushed in, followed by campus security who then dragged out a boy who was stumbling in front of him.

A few cheers erupted from the side of the building as other drunken students congratulated their friend on his achievement. Jonathan resisted the need to snarl at what he had just witnessed. How could people be so pathetic? He had no idea. Victoria stood beside him, a small smirk on her face as she remembered her fresher's week.

"I should go home," she declared. "Look, can we make an appointment or something?"

"You're not in therapy now," Jonathan replied to her as students were told that the library was to be shut for checks to make sure everything was in order. "It depends when."

"Why?" she wondered. "Do you have a hectic schedule?"

"No," Jonathan replied, watching as she turned on her heel and began to move. He followed suit, moving to the car park beside her, before he returned to his own dorm. "Anyway, are you sure you want my help?"

"If enduring you means having a chance of graduating then I am willing to go through it."

"Really, I didn't know you were full of snide comments." He informed her and she shook her head, dragging her car keys out from her bag.

"I'm normally not. You must have caught me on a bad day." She spoke before she noticed it.

She looked across the nearly deserted car park to the back. She always parked at the back. It was out of the way. But, that was not what had bothered her. What bothered her was the state her car was in. She shook her head and rushed over to it, her feet hitting the floor quickly and her dress riding up her legs as she moved.

Jonathan remained stood where he was for a few moments, watching her as he pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. She finally stopped at her car and unlocked it, opening the driver's door to find the rock which sat on the seat.

Slowly, Jonathan moved closer to her once again, wondering what had happened.

"No." He heard her whisper. "Not again...not again..."

He kept quiet, standing a few feet away as she threw the rock from her car and looked at the smashed window screen.

"Perhaps it was those students," Jonathan said. "You know how brain cells die due to alcohol."

"No," Victoria spoke; her voice convinced that she knew what had happened. "I know who it is...I know what has happened..."

"Then what?" Jonathan asked her. "Because an explanation is needed for this."

Victoria looked across to him, her hands still shaking as she brushed the glass from the seat, pushing it to the floor.

"It doesn't matter. I have to go...I need to go..."

Jonathan saw her climb into the car and slam the door shut, nervously looking around as she started the engine and the car stalled. She slammed her hands against the wheel, tears falling down her eyes as he realised that she was in no fit state to drive. He reacted quickly this time, opening the driver's door and stopping her from going anywhere.

"You're going to kill someone driving in the state you are in," he scolded her. "Get out of the car now."

"I have to go." She snapped back. "I need to get out of here."

"Then I will drive." Jonathan said. "Because I have better things to do than be a witness at your trial for murder."

He wrapped his long fingers around her arm and pulled her from the car. He climbed into her seat, looking at the shards of glass which covered the floor as he tried to recall the driving lessons he had taken. He had learnt during the second year of University, only just managing to pass on the first go. She sat down in the passenger seat, still shaking as blood covered her fingers from the glass she had so willingly pushed away from her.

"Wrap the blanket in the backseat around that," Jonathan ordered her. "I don't need you passing out whilst giving me directions."

She did as she had been commanded, wrapping the blanket around her hand as she choked back the tears and sobs in her throat.

Jonathan set off, driving at a leisurely speed and remaining observant as Victoria said nothing until he was out of campus.

"It's the next left...just follow the road until seventh avenue," she informed him in a whisper.

Jonathan nodded and remembered the instructions. "Do you intend to tell me what has happened?"

She said nothing to him then, choosing to look out the window and at the bright lights of Gotham which surrounded her. Jonathan kept quiet, deciding not to wind her up or provoke her further. The only time she spoke was to give him instructions of where to go. He finally pulled up to a small suburban house as Victoria looked to her home.

"I'll call you a cab to get you back to campus," she whispered to him, opening the door to her car.

Jonathan followed, taking the keys from the ignition and passing them back to her as he grabbed his bag from the backseat.

He followed her up to the door of her home, watching as she remained in a zombie like trance. She pushed the door open to see her mother sat on the step of the staircase. Jonathan lurked in the doorway, not too sure what he should do with himself.

"Vicky," Julie sobbed, standing up and taking her daughter into her arms. "You're safe...I've been calling you...your cell has been switched off..."

"I know," Vicky said. "They're back, mom. They...they destroyed the car's window screen."

"But they didn't hurt you," Julie said, her hand running down her daughter's cheek. "That's the main thing. I'm going to call the police again."

"What's the point?"

"Don't argue, Vic," her mother urged her. "We need them to do something."

Julie finally looked up and spotted the young man in the doorway. She furrowed her brow before looking to Victoria for an explanation. Julie pulled her cardigan tighter around her body as Victoria motioned to Jonathan with her arm.

"This is Jonathan Crane. He was studying with me when...well...the library was evacuated and we found the car. He drove me home."

"Oh," Julie said, moving closer to Jonathan. "It is good to meet you, Jonathan. I am sorry about all of this."

"I told him that we would call him a cab to take him back home."

"Of course," Julie said, obviously flustered wit everything that has happened. She reached for the landline phone which sat in the hallway, beginning to dial for a cab.

"Jonathan, come in and close that door," Julie urged him. "You can take a seat whilst you wait. I'll get you some money for the cab."

"There's no need," Jonathan said to her.

"You brought my daughter home. There is every need," Julie assured him before beginning to speak down the phone.

Victoria led Jonathan down the small hall and into the small kitchen. He remained lurking by the door, not feeling comfortable with his current surroundings. He watched as Victoria bent down to grab some kitchen roll. She placed it under water and wiped off the dried blood which sat there.

"You'll need to properly clean it," Jonathan warned her. "The cut is deep."

"I'll be fine," Victoria assured him.

"Do as you please," Jonathan grumbled. She always did as she pleased, regardless of what he said.

"The cab should be here in five minutes, Jonathan," Julie said when she entered the kitchen, handing him a twenty dollar bill. "Don't argue with me. Just take the money and get back safely."

"Thanks," Jonathan said after an awkward pause.

None of them said anything to each other, clearly too in shock with the recent events to have any words of wisdom. Jonathan observed Victoria as her mother bandaged her hand tenderly. The young girl was clearly shaken up. It only made Jonathan observe her more. It made him wonder what had happened. Apparently someone was out to get them. But why?

Jonathan was snapped from his thoughts as a honk of the horn was heard.

"That must be your cab," Julie informed him. "I'll show you out."

"No need," Jonathan held his hand up. "I can manage that."

"Okay," Julie said, not putting up too much of a fight. "Thank you so much, Jonathan."

"Yes...thank you," Victoria added on, her gaze meeting his as he inclined his head and turned on his heel. He moved back down the hall, dropping the twenty dollar bill on the side board. He noted the picture which sat beside it. A picture of a family of three. He looked at it for another moment before allowing himself out the house, wondering what kind of mess the Martinez family were in.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan didn't see Victoria for the following week. He only knew then that she would struggle more in class than she had been doing. His eyes moved to the door at the beginning of each lecture. He didn't know why. It was like he was waiting for her to come to class. She didn't concern him. She really held no interest to him.

But her history did. He wondered why someone would smash her car. He wondered why anyone would take the time to do that. Apparently someone was after her. Jonathan wanted to know why. Curiosity often got the better of him.

It was the following Wednesday morning when he saw her. She was sat in the library, books in her hands as she read them. Her eyes held a vacant look as Jonathan slowly approached her. It was only then when he realised she wasn't reading. She was biting her bottom lip with such force that Jonathan was shocked she hadn't drawn blood. Her face seemed gaunt and pale and she wore jeans and an oversized shirt. She looked a mess in comparison to normal.

Her hand constantly tugged through her hair as Jonathan wondered whether he should sit beside her or find somewhere else to go. He supposed he didn't want to look too concerned. He took the table opposite hers, his eyes downcast as he pretended not to notice her.

Victoria looked up as she heard the scraping of a chair. Her attention had been snapped from the book she had been reading as she looked over to the boy opposite her. Jonathan had his nose buried in a book and Victoria chewed her tongue as she wondered if she should say something to him. There was no one in the library. The Psychology section always seemed quiet and dead.

She kept on lifting her eyes up to look at Jonathan, choosing to keep quiet until he noticed her. She finally picked up a book and moved down the long bookshelf, inhaling sharply as she put it away and grabbed another one.

"I see you're back."

She startled quietly, dropping the book to the floor as she heard his voice sneak up on her. She dropped to her knees, picking up the book and holding it to her chest as he watched her with wonder. She took it into her hands, looking on as Jonathan stood above her, his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he rested his hands on his hips. He was clearly waiting for an answer from her.

"I am," she agreed weakly. "Anyway, thanks for the other week. You didn't have to do what you did."

"Like I said," Jonathan drawled. "I didn't feel like giving evidence at your murder trial. You'd have killed someone driving home like you did."

"Probably," Vicky agreed with him. "So...anyway...I should get back to my desk."

"Do you not intend to tell me what the other night was about?" Jonathan wondered from her, his voice curt.

"No," she simply replied. "Look, I thanked you...and that is it...there's nothing more to talk about."

"I don't think the fire alarm was random," Jonathan informed her. "I think someone did it to lure you outside."

"You saw it was the drunken students who did it," Vicky protested.

"It is coincidental that it happens the same night that your car is destroyed," Jonathan reminded her. "Don't you think that, Victoria? And who would want to scare you? They succeeded and did a fabulous job. I wonder if they had been there waiting for you...if they would have gotten you if I hadn't been there-"

"-Enough," Victoria snapped, her voice echoing around the shelves they stood in. She glowered at Jonathan, her cheeks now taking a biting to as she shook her head. "You don't know anything."

"I know that you're in trouble," Jonathan responded. "I know that something has followed you from Chicago."

"Is that what you think?" Victoria wondered; her brow arched as she looked at him.

"It is what I know," Jonathan assured her. "There is something wrong. You wouldn't be in therapy if there wasn't, and you wouldn't have freaked when you saw your car the other night."

"And how is it your concern?" Victoria enquired harshly. "You couldn't wait to get rid of me the other night. You couldn't wait not to tutor me, and now you stand here telling me that you want to know."

"I'm intrigued," Jonathan lamely admitted. "You fear something. I just don't know what just yet."

"You never will," Victoria promised him, pushing a hand through her hair before she walked away from him. Jonathan watched her leave, noticing how she pushed her hand through her brow curls. It was only then when he looked at the roots of her hair. They were fading from brown to blonde. She'd dyed her hair.

Normally Jonathan wouldn't be suspicious of that. Girls did things to their hair which Jonathan couldn't comprehend. But this was Victoria Martinez. There was something about her that told him she wasn't the type of girl to change her hair. Every time he had seen her, it had been in either two styles. It was either down, or tied in a messy bobble. She didn't take care of it like the others.

"What are you hiding?" Jonathan whispered softly as he saw her take her seat and begin to read again.

He moved back to his own desk, engrossing himself in his work as he tried to think about what she would hide from. She didn't look up at him, and he didn't look up at her. He kept to his own business until lunch. She stood first, clearing everything away from the desk and slinging her satchel on her shoulder. She moved away from him as Jonathan took his turn to tidy up and then move from the library.

"You do know that I am the most popular boy in this place."

Jonathan snorted to himself as he came outside and heard the voice. He looked to the side to where she stood. She was walking in front of him, an arm dangling around her shoulder. Apparently Robert Preston didn't like to give up easily.

"I'm flattered," Vicky replied; her voice flat as she shrugged his arm from her shoulders. "But I'm still not interested."

"You were on the first day."

"I don't want anything," Victoria spoke back. "I'm really not interested in anything that you have to offer."

"You'll be sorry by Christmas," he assured her.

She rolled her eyes at hearing that, shaking her head with haste before she turned off the main path. Jonathan watched as she made her way back to the parking lot. He wondered if she was going home already. He rolled his eyes at that. Of course she would be running off back home instead of turning up to lectures to be humiliated for her failing papers. It wasn't until Jonathan saw a man take her by the elbow did he become intrigued again.

He moved slowly then, keeping his distance and hiding in shadows. She was led away from the parking lot, choosing to keep quiet before she came to the back of the library and the empty bike stand which no one used. Jonathan hid around the corner, listening in as they spoke.

"Where is it, Anna?"

"I told you," she replied. "I don't know where it is. We have no idea where it is. My dad never told us."

A small chuckle came from the man as Jonathan frowned, wondering what he was currently listening to. A small gasp came from her then and he wondered what had happened as she kept quiet.

"Aw, baby," he complained to her. "We know that you know where it is. The boss has been after it for a long time. Apparently your father knew things about it that no one else did."

"That doesn't mean that I know where he kept it. He wouldn't use it. He probably destroyed it."

"Is that what he told you?"

"Yes." She said; her voice flat and monotone. "You know that. It should never be used. It's too dangerous for you morons to even comprehend."

"Now, now," he spoke in a condescending tone. "You wouldn't want that pretty face to be ruined, would you? It would be such a shame."

"Just go away," she spoke, her voice low and nothing more than a plea. "You need to leave us alone. We have nothing to do with it."

"I doubt that," he snorted. "You'll find it, Annalise. You will do that, do you understand me?"

"How?" she snapped back. "I don't know where it is. Honestly, he said nothing in his will. We have nothing to help you."

"You wouldn't help if you did know," he scoffed back at her. "Do you think I'm that foolish?"

"Do you want me to answer that?" she replied.

Jonathan winced involuntarily as he heard a smack echo through the building. He could only imagine she had pushed him too far. She certainly didn't seem that intelligent. Although Jonathan had always guessed she never was too clever.

"You need to learn to watch your mouth. It's going to get you into trouble one day."

"I don't doubt it," she grumbled back. "You should leave before someone finds you here. You wouldn't want to end up back in County, would you?"

"Funny girl," he cooed. "You have a month to find it. The boss is feeling patient."

"How considerate," she snarled. "I don't know where it is, that's the main issue."

"Well, you'd best start searching," he urged her. "It'd be horrible to lose mommy in the same year you lost daddy."

A silence ensued then and Jonathan wondered whether the man had left her alone. He took a second to peer around the wall then, seeing the back of a tall man walk away. Victoria was leant against the wall, her eyes looking to the sky as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She heard footsteps come closer before she turned her head and saw him approach her. He held his books under his arm and a puzzled look on his face.

"What should I call you?" Jonathan wondered. "Is it Victoria or Annalise?"

She said nothing to him.

"You shouldn't be here," she replied quickly. "You don't want to get messed up in my business."

"I can see that," he assured her. "I'm still not sure what your business is."

"I'm serious, Jonathan," Victoria said, pushing herself from the wall to slowly move closer to him. A red mark covered her cheek where he had slapped her as she stared at Jonathan with wide eyes. "You need to stay away from me."

"Or you could be threatened somewhere more private?" Jonathan wondered.

She moved closer to him, her head held high as she continued to glare.

"Is this some kind of joke to you?" she hissed.

"No," he replied without a pause. "But anyone can see that you're in trouble. I was right before, wasn't I?"

"Leave it," she growled lowly. "I can take care of myself."

"Evidentially," Jonathan sarcastically spoke. "That is why you have a large red mark on your cheek, isn't it? You handle things so well."

"Why are you even here?" she replied, her hand moving to her cheek to hide the mark from his view. "I thought you were in the library."

"I left after you did. And don't try to change the conversation from you." Jonathan replied. "It won't work."

"I'm telling you to stay out of this because you don't know what you're asking from me. Do you think any good will come from you getting involved in my business?"

"I don't think you can even handle your own business," Jonathan replied. "What are you going to do? Wait for some knight to come and rescue you?"

"Of course not," she rolled her eyes. "I just don't want you involved. You're not my favourite person...but what this is...I wouldn't even wish it on my worst enemies."

She pulled her satchel further on her shoulder, digging into it for her car keys. She needed to go and find her mother, not stand around and talk to Jonathan of her problems. They weren't his to listen to.

"You need to tell the police," Jonathan replied.

She scoffed at that holding her keys in her hands as she folded her arms.

"It will do no good," she assured him. "They sent us to the most corrupt city in the States. It's as if they have it out for us...anyway...I need to go."

"Where?"

"Why are you so bothered?"

"I'm not," he spoke with a wrinkle of his nose. "It was a simple question. You seem to be scared of them."

"I'm not in the mood," Vicky complained. "Go to lectures. I need to leave."

Jonathan said nothing more as he watched her leave for the parking lot. He studied her with interest, unable to comprehend everything that he had heard and seen that morning. But he would find out. Jonathan knew that much.

...

A/N: Sorry that I haven't updated in a while, but thank you to anyone reading and do let me know what you think so far!


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan had to admit his shock at seeing Victoria manage to stand up for herself during their earlier conversation. Normally it took her a while to bite back to his comments, but she'd been riled up, Jonathan had seen that much.

She came back to lectures the following week, sitting on the row in front of Jonathan, a pen in her hand as she lazily twirled it in her fingers, completely ignoring whatever it was that the Professor was talking about. She didn't seem interested in anything at all. Jonathan suspected that her mind was somewhere else. He couldn't blame her for that.

He observed her slowly, watching every action which she made to see if he could understand what had managed to make her so worried. He wondered what could be so top secret to be threatened for. Luckily his lack of attention in lectures didn't affect his grades.

"Did you tell the police?" Jonathan asked her one day.

She was packing away from lectures, allowing everyone to leave before her as she stuffed her belongings into her satchel. Jonathan stood at the end of her row, his backpack slung over his shoulder as he pushed his glasses further onto his nose.

Victoria looked up and across to Jonathan for a moment. He knew that he couldn't be long. He had work at the psychiatrists that night.

"Yes," Victoria replied, "for all the good it will do me."

"What is happening?" Jonathan wondered, unable to stop himself from asking her. "You're not going to get a degree if you keep on being so distracted."

"I didn't know you were so interested in me," Victoria drawled out, draping her jacket over her arm and pushing past Jonathan.

"Not you," Jonathan said, "just your little problem. I assume you were quite wild when you were normal. I mean, I can see you're a blonde."

Vicky rested her hand on her head, unaware that her roots had gone back to normal.

"I didn't know that you had a stereotypical opinion of blondes," Vicky drawled.

"Only you," Jonathan assured her with a smirk. "So, what is it, Vicky? Or is it Anna-"

"-Don't say that name," Vicky snapped at him, jumping closer to press her hand over his mouth. Jonathan watched her for a moment as she stood close to him, looking around the empty room as she kept her hand firmly placed on his lips. "I'm warning you, Jonathan. You need to keep quiet about this."

Jonathan wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling it from his skin and keeping it in his hold.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Victoria?" Jonathan whispered to her.

"Leave it," she warned him, snapping her hand from his grip. "Please."

Jonathan said nothing as he watched her sweep from the lecture hall, her hand constantly tucking her hair behind her ears. She moved with haste after that, running her hands through her hair as she left campus again.

Shaking his head, Jonathan moved out of the lecture and dumped his stuff back in his room before he made his way to work again. He said nothing as he worked silently, filing things away into their correct place. That seemed to be something which the receptionist found herself incapable of doing.

"Oh, Jonathan."

He looked up from the work he had been doing, his gaze narrowed as he saw a familiar looking woman stood at the desk to the reception. She forced herself to smile, but Jonathan could see through her. She didn't really want to be smiling at him. And then he remembered who she was. Julie Martinez, mother of Victoria.

"Ms Martinez," Jonathan replied, remembering the manners which had been disciplined into him. "A pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise," she spoke back, pulling her bag further onto her shoulder. "I never had the chance to properly thank you for bringing Victoria home the other night. We were too shaken up, I'm afraid."

"It's understandable, Ms Martinez," Jonathan spoke back, looking at her and wondering how far he could push his luck. "I assume Victoria has told you about the other day."

Julie froze for a moment, looking to the door which her daughter had just gone through. She was still insisting that it would be good for Victoria to speak to someone about the problems which she faced. Vicky remained adamant that she didn't need to talk. Talking rarely achieved anything in the situation which she was in.

"Oh," Julie said. "She didn't say you were there."

"I found her," Jonathan said. "She was in quite the state."

"Yes," Julie whispered back, remembering her daughter's beaten face coming to her office later in the day. "Well, the police are sorting that out."

"Victoria remains convinced that the police are incapable of sorting any mess out," Jonathan responded. "Of course, her faith in the justice system is lacking. I've seen that whilst helping her with her work."

"You've been helping her?" Julie's brow seemed to furrow further.

"She asked," Jonathan replied nonchalantly. "That's why it is alarming to see her so upset," he lied, wondering if he had a chance of cracking her mother. He supposed he couldn't do anything but have a go. "Of course, I know all about her real name. The man threatening her spoke it. Annalise."

Julie paled further as she moved closer to Jonathan, looking around to make sure that there was no one listening to anything which she said. She took a moment to rest her hands on the surface as Jonathan cocked a brow.

"Don't call her that," Julie pleaded. "You seem a polite young man. Don't get involved in any of this mess. Believe me; I would have divorced her father if I knew any of this could happen in my life. It is Vicky who I am concerned for."

"I see," Jonathan said as Julie ran a hand through her pristine hair, wondering what she should tell the young man. None of it was his business, but he was intrigued. Julie could see that much. She forced a fake smile onto her face once more;

"I promise it will be for the best," she assured him, her smile widening with each passing moment. "Vicky will be just fine. I will see to that."

"Well," Jonathan coughed awkwardly as Julie took a seat on the sofa. "That's the main thing, I suppose."

He watched as Vicky left Doctor Banner's room, her hands in her pockets as she looked to her mother. She nodded at her mother, refusing to slow her pace. Julie caught up with her daughter as she turned to the side to look at Jonathan. He smirked at her as she grimaced and her mother asked her questions.

"That boy was concerned about you," Julie informed her daughter, noting the police protection in the parking lot which they sat in. They were in a black SUV and had been sent to follow Julie and her daughter.

"It was cute," Julie declared as she began to drive off, checking her rear view mirror. It was at that moment when she knew something wasn't quite right. They didn't follow her. She pulled the handbrake, stopping the car and flinging Vicky forwards in her seat.

"What is it?" Vicky snapped at her mom.

"Go back inside," her mother demanded her. "Vicky, we need to go back inside."

"Why?" she wondered back. "What is it?"

"The cops are...they're not moving...there's no sign of life..."

"What?" Vicky slowly replied. "They can't be here. They can't have followed us _here. _It is broad daylight...they couldn't have killed them..."

"Do you think anything stops men like them?" Julie hissed at her daughter, opening her car door. Vicky climbed out the car too, her satchel on her shoulder as her mother abandoned the car and looked back to the SUV. There was no way she was going to investigate.

"Come on," Julie whispered as they moved back down the side of the building which was big enough for one car to go down. That was when they saw him stood there. Julie pushed her daughter behind her, looking at the man with her head held high.

"What do you want?" Julie snapped, the darkened alley creeping her out more than she cared to admit. "We don't have what you want. Leave us alone."

"No can do, honey," he snapped back at her. "I warned your daughter what would happen if she didn't do as I told her. The boss gave her a month, but we see you went and got the police involved."

"You threatened my daughter," Julie snarled. "What did you think I would do? Leave them out of this?"

"You're too dumb to do that," he replied with a chuckle, dragging on his cigarette. Julie noted the gleaming object which sat in his pocket, fear radiating through her as she kept her firm grip on Victoria. "Consider this a friendly warning. Your escort is dead. How many more men do you think the police will risk before they relocate you? How long do you want this to go on for, Melissa?"

Julie winced at her real name on his tongue. Nothing had gone to plan since they left Chicago. They'd be tracked down wherever they went. She knew that.

"Tell your boss that we don't know where it is," Julie begged. "Leave us alone...please...Martin never told us where it was. Surely you can make something like it? There are men as clever as Martin was."

"Do you think we haven't tried, you dumb bitch?" he snapped at Julie. "You'll find it if you want to keep your head on your shoulders."

"And if we don't?"

"Then you die...your daughter is a different matter...the boss has seen her...thinks it's a shame to kill a younger version of you. Who knows what shall happen?"

"No!" Julie snapped loudly. "You'll go nowhere near her."

"We won't," he agreed, "so long as you find what we need."

That was when Vicky saw the small figure move out from the shadows. She arched a brow, keeping quiet as he pressed a finger to his lip, urging her to be quiet. He carried the lid from the trash can in his hand, moving behind the man slowly as Vicky grabbed her mother's hand. Julie kept talking, distracting him before Jonathan finally made himself known. He slammed the lid over the man's head, hitting him repeatedly until he blacked out.

"Oh God," Julie said, a hand over her heaving chest as Jonathan kept the lid in his hands, too scared to let it go.

"The police are on the way," Jonathan informed them. "Doctor Barnard heard shouting. He saw them."

"And you did this?" Victoria checked as Doctor Barnard came out and checked her mother was okay. She shrugged off his comments, deciding to move closer to Jonathan as she kept her jacket wrapped around her. "Did you know he had a gun?"

"Perfectly well," Jonathan said back, doing his best to keep his temper under control. He'd just saved her life. Why could she not just thank him like normal people? "Did you ever consider that he could have shot you? Then it would be the ambulance I'd be phoning, not the police."

"He wouldn't. He values us too much," Vicky replied.

"Can you not just thank me?" Jonathan wondered, noticing how her hands shook.

She tried to steady them by folding them into her arms. Her body was visibly shaking as she shook her head at Jonathan, unable to believe what he had just done.

"Thank you," Vicky forced herself to spit out the words. "But you could have been hurt."

"I didn't know you were so concerned."

"This is our mess," Victoria replied. "Of course I am concerned."

"Jonathan!" Doctor Barnard called his name. "Take Miss Martinez inside until the police come out."

"Go, Vicky," Julie said, managing a smile for her daughter. "I'll wait for the police...make sure he doesn't go..."

Vicky nodded once, looking at the unconscious body on the floor before following Jonathan inside. The receptionist had gone out to see the commotion, leaving the building vacant. Victoria sat down on the sofa whilst Jonathan grabbed a bottle of water. He handed it to her, sitting by her side before running a hand through his hair.

"Do you think you can explain now?" Jonathan enquired. "I just saved your life."

"He wouldn't have killed us," Vicky adamantly snapped. "But no, I won't tell you. It isn't your business, Jonathan. Stop thinking that it is."

"He could come after me now, do you know that? I knocked him unconscious...who is to say I'm not involved?" Jonathan wondered. "What is it that your father did? What is it that they want?"

Vicky remained quiet for another few moments, her mind awash with worry at what had just happened. She loosened the cap to the water bottle she had, draining some of it before she looked to Jonathan. He was waiting patiently and she sighed once, pushing a hand through her badly dyed hair.

"They want something which my dad made," she whispered. "They think we have the instructions to it. He was the only one capable of putting it together...they chased him down...demanded that he give them it."

"What was it?" Jonathan wondered.

"Something bad," Vicky nodded. "Something which could drive a person mad. My dad had nearly perfected it when they came...mom...she told him to stop...told him that it was dangerous. He said it could only be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands."

"It's trying to," Jonathan mumbled.

"That's true," she agreed in a small voice. "Look, Jonathan, that's as much as you can know."

"And you moved because of it," Jonathan spoke. "You left Chicago because they wanted it. You were sent into witness protection."

"And they sent us to Gotham," Vicky finalised with a loud snort. "Ironic, wouldn't you say? They sent us to the home of corruption."

"And now you're stuck," Jonathan mumbled, turning his gaze to her from the corner of his eye. He took in the appearance of the brunette. She was worried, he could tell that much. Her great secret was getting to her. He assumed he was one of the few who knew about it. He just didn't know what the secret truly was. He supposed he'd find out in time.

"Looks like the police have arrived," Jonathan said, noting the whirling of the blue sirens.

Vicky stood up, placing her bottle on the reception desk.

"Look...thank you," Victoria spoke, "for everything that you've done. I mean...you're not that bad when you're polite."

Jonathan couldn't resist the smugness of his face as he stood and straightened his tie.

"I wondered if you could be amicable," he commented. "Apparently so."

"Yeah, don't get used to it," Vicky scoffed.

She turned on her heel and left the psychiatrists, leaving Jonathan with ample time to find her file as she spoke to the police. He'd find out the great secret one way or another. Little did he know how much it would impact on his life and career.


	6. Chapter 6

Jonathan read through her file, his brows and eyes moving with every word which he took in. He was struggling to believe what he was reading about. Victoria and her mother had moved from Chicago due to threats. Not nice threats, by the sounds of it. Jonathan's eyes kept glancing towards the door to make sure that Doctor Barnard didn't interrupt him. He would hate for his time to be cut short.

Their home had been destroyed; Victoria had been chased out of two schools too. Her mother's office had been ransacked. Her parent's marriage had been on the edge for a long time before her father's death. And it was all because of a toxin. A fear toxin. Jonathan could feel shock radiate through him as he thought about fear.

It had never been something which he had studied before. He had dismissed it, choosing to go to other parts of Psychology. But now he was intrigued. Now, he wanted to know what the toxin could do. He needed to know. The file was brief on the science of it, but it gave out the necessities. Victoria and her mother possibly knew where this toxin was. Jonathan didn't doubt how dangerous this toxin could be. Of course, he didn't know much about pharmacology. It had never been something which had interested him.

But now...well...now he was intrigued.

...

"They said a month," Victoria complained to her mother as they sat in the car. Julie had her hands on the steering wheel, holding it tightly as she looked in her rear view mirror. The security had been upped for them ever since the death of the police officers in the psychiatrists. They'd told them how they had been threatened, but the man they had arrested refused to speak. They couldn't make him talk, and Victoria was beginning to grow worried.

"I know," Julie said, running her hands through her hair. "I know what they said, Vicky. Just go to college...go...and I will pick you up tonight."

"Mom-"

"-We can't do anything," Julie suddenly snapped, turning to look at her daughter. "What do you want me to do, Victoria? I can't stop what is happening, can I? We can't run anymore...there is nowhere to run..."

"There has to be," Vicky urged her mother. "We need to go somewhere...anywhere. We can't stay in Gotham."

"Vicky, they will find us...besides...we have the police protecting us."

"Because they've done a fabulous job so far," Vicky snorted sarcastically. "This isn't right, mom. We need to do something...please...you know what he said...about you..."

"I know," Julie repeated. "I know what they said. It is not my life I am concerned about, Victoria. It is yours."

Vicky said nothing then, knowing how her mother was worrying over her. She was worrying over her mother. Both of them were in the same boat, but there was nothing that they could do. There was nothing to stop this madness.

"Look," Julie whispered to her daughter. "Go to class. I am sure Jonathan will be pleased to see you."

Vicky allowed her brow to furrow as she heard her mother say that. She shook her head, grabbing her satchel from the footwell after a moment.

"Why would you say that? Jonathan can't stand me. He gets annoyed with me easily. He still thinks I'm stupid, and who can blame him? I'm not exactly getting good grades, am I? I'm getting a degree in something which I hate."

"No," Julie shook her head. "You only hate it because of what has happened to your father. He was the one who taught you all about the mind and its workings."

"And look how he ended up," Vicky whispered, looking across to her mother before she kissed her on the cheek. "Promise me that you'll be safe, okay?"

"Vic," her mother drawled, running her hand down her daughter's cheek. "It's not me who you need to worry about."

"I do," Vicky whispered. "I worry for both of us."

"Go to your lecture," Julie urged her. "I will see you tonight."

Vicky took a moment to climb from the car and make her way inside. A police officer from the car trailing them followed her too, watching her intently as she tried to ignore him. Most people hadn't noticed the escort which trailed Vicky around. Jonathan had known straight away. Vicky moved to the quiet and empty lecture hall, taking a seat in her regular place. Jonathan looked up from the notes he had been making as she took to sit down in front of him.

"Your month has passed."

Vicky took a second to turn back to look at him, her brow arched as he twirled his pen in his hands.

"Thank you for the reminder," Vicky drawled out to him. "And before you ask, no, we haven't got it for them."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that...well...I don't know..." Vicky admitted.

"Haven't you asked your bodyguard outside?" Jonathan enquired.

"He's not very talkative," Vicky groaned, constantly checking the loose watch which sat on her wrist. She said nothing for a few moments as she dug her pens from her bag along with her textbook. Jonathan looked in front of him, noticing that she had dyed her hair again as he saw her run a hand through it.

"I don't know what to do." Vicky suddenly blurted out.

Jonathan looked back up from his work, an agitated sigh running through his body as he did so. He took a moment to look at her with an arched brow, his hand holding his chin as she looked back to him. Her eyes were wide as she made her confession.

"Do you know where the instructions to this device are?" Jonathan wondered.

"No."

"Then you cannot do anything, can you? Unless you can think of something significant that could lead you to it." Jonathan responded. "There is nothing more to it, Victoria."

She blinked profusely for a few moments, sitting there and wondering what kind of response she had expected from Jonathan Crane. She didn't expect anything other than brutal honesty. It was what Jonathan was good at dishing out. He didn't sugar coat anything.

"I shouldn't be here."

"Where should you be?" Jonathan wondered. "Holed up with your mother? Waiting for them to come to you? Tell me, Victoria, because I don't see a lot of other options for you."

She took a moment to blink profusely, her eyes watering as she heard Jonathan speak the brutal truth to her. She inhaled sharply, groaning as she did so. She began to pack her belongings away and stood up, forcing them back into her satchel.

"You know, no one can ever accuse you of being kind."

"No one ever has," Jonathan drawled. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Vicky said. "I'm screwed in Psychology. I need to go to my mom."

"Don't be silly. You don't have a car to get you home."

"The officer will take me home," Vicky spoke. "I can't sit here...knowing what could be happening...it isn't right..."

"Gotham isn't right," Jonathan snorted. "Don't be foolish. You're a sitting duck out there with one officer. The safest place for you is on campus."

"And my mom?"

"The safest place for her is at work...where you are surrounded by people," Jonathan replied quickly. "At home, that is where you're weak."

Victoria took a moment to think about his reasoning before she agreed with his logic. Jonathan tugged another button to his blue shirt open underneath his sweater. He watched as she slumped back into her seat, defeat taking over her as her hands began to rake through her hair again.

"Do you need another session after class?" Jonathan asked her. "I see you managed sixty percent on your last test."

"Slowly improving."

"Sixty is better than a lot of people in here," Jonathan assured her. "We shall go to the library after the lecture. I should be getting paid for taking my time to teach you."

"Professor Bramowitz thanks you for it enough, doesn't he?" Vicky hissed back at Jonathan, tiring of listening to him and his complaints all the time. The two of them lapsed into silence for the remainder of the lecture, making notes of their own. It wasn't until after everyone had left when Jonathan moved out the door, Vicky close behind him.

"Where's your officer?" Jonathan wondered, noting that the corridor was deserted.

Victoria looked around for any sign of him, her brow arching as she did so. She couldn't see him anywhere.

"I don't know," Vicky mumbled.

"Miss Martinez."

Victoria jumped as she heard the voice come from behind her. The officer stood there, dressed in normal attire as he looked down at her.

"I wondered where you had gotten to," Vicky complained.

"I'm here," he told her. "But we need to go straight away."

"Why?"

"It is your mother," he told her. "Officer Dolby was shot in his car. Your mother has gone missing."

"What?" Vicky snapped. "How could this happen again? Why was there not enough protection?"

Jonathan listened intently as the officer took hold of Vicky's elbow and walked her down the corridor, listening to her yells as she went. He remained stood where he was, watching as she was led away to somewhere safe, no doubt. He shook his head, wondering how this girl had found herself to be in such a mess.

He slowly followed them through the quiet Psychology block, noting how they made their way to the parking lot. It was only then when Jonathan noted something odd. He saw the red dot sat on the back of the officer and he looked up to the rooftops which surrounded the gardens in the middle of campus. He rushed forwards, knowing that something was going to happen before it did.

Screams soon echoed as the officer fell to the ground, a silent bullet hitting his back. Vicky squealed as other students moved their attention to the murder on the premises. Jonathan saw her stand there, the red dot still flittering around as he ran as fast as possible. Students soon began to flock towards her, professors leaving their talks to see what had happened.

"Come on," Jonathan demanded Vicky as he took hold of her elbow. "If you stay here then you're dead, Victoria. Trust me."

Her eyes met his as he dragged her through campus, knowing full well that he had to get her to the police. It would be the safest place for her. A sniper on the roof waiting for students to move so that it could get to her was not safe.

Victoria felt Jonathan's bony fingers wrap around her wrist as he moved into the parking lot and towards the main road. He noted a bus sat by the bus stop, waiting to go again. He dug his wallet from his jean pocket as he approached the metal vehicle. Victoria was in a state of shock, willing to do whatever it was Jonathan demanded of her. Jonathan paid for two tickets to the library, the only place he knew, and ushered her towards the back of the bus.

"Sit down," Jonathan demanded her as she took her seat next to the window. Jonathan slid in next to her, dropping his satchel on the floor as he angled his knees to the side, giving him more room and bumping against her knees.

"Oh God," Vicky whispered. "He was shot...right there...so easily...how...how could this happen?"

"These men who are after you are powerful," Jonathan spoke lowly. "There is no denying that, Victoria."

"I know," she said with a whisper.

"They want you to know that nowhere is safe. You're alone wherever you go."

"Shit...shit...damn...they have my mom...they've got my mom..."

"You need to call the police," Jonathan urged her. He took her satchel from her lap and searched for her cell. He dug it out as she sat where she was, her face turning pale as sickness slowly took over her. Jonathan moved his hand to sit on her back, knowing that he would end up with a fine if she emptied her stomach on the public transport.

"My mom...they can't kill her...not her..."

"I assume-"

"-Don't," Vicky interrupted him. "I don't want to listen to your assumptions, Jonathan. I want my mom."

"Then call the police," Jonathan demanded before he noted her cell begin to flash with light. The caller was unknown as he looked to her. She looked back at him, gulping loudly before taking the phone.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Miss Daniels, is it?" the voice replied. "Or is it Miss Martinez?"

"Who is this?" Victoria managed to whisper her question. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want, Miss Martinez. You see, your mother and you were told of the conditions. My partner isn't a patient man...if anything, he is extremely impatient."

"I don't know where it is," Vicky snarled. "Just let my mom go."

"Look," he replied. "I'm generous, okay? Running Gotham has softened me to your petty pleas...so...let's say...you have twenty four hours from now to find it."

"And if I go to the police?"

"Do you know who owns the police? Me," he answered for her. "Go to them; see what good comes from it. None, I can assure you of that."

"Please," Vicky begged. "Just let her go."

"Look, your begging isn't attractive, sweetie. Just do as you're told."

He hung up without another word, leaving Vicky to listen to a dead line. She dropped the phone to her lap, looking out the window as Jonathan watched her with interest, knowing full well that she was in the process of losing her mother.


	7. Chapter 7

"What do you intend to do?" Jonathan asked Victoria as she sat beside him on the bus. She had said nothing since the phone call from ten minutes ago. It was as if she was paralysed. She'd refused to call the police, knowing full well that it would do her no good.

It had done her no good since she set foot in Gotham.

"I need to find it," Vicky sniffed with a stern nod. "I need to get off this bus and go home. It has to be somewhere."

"You did say that you didn't know where it would be," Jonathan replied to her, pointing out her previous words. Vicky turned her gaze to him, glaring with her wide orbs as Jonathan held his hands up in defence. "I'm just saying."

"I don't need you to just say," Vicky hissed quietly. "Look, I need to get off this bus now."

"Fine," Jonathan agreed with her and pressed the bell on the bus.

It slowed down as it approached the next stop. Vicky stood up and slung her satchel onto her shoulder, waiting for Jonathan to stand up and let her pass. Jonathan seemed to have other ideas. He stood with her, moving to exit the bus himself as Vicky's brow furrowed.

"What are you doing?" she wondered as they stood on the sidewalk.

"My intention was to help you," Jonathan admitted. "I assume another set of eyes couldn't hurt. Besides, I know what it is you need. Some set of instructions."

"Why do you want to help me?" Vicky asked, moving down the sidewalk in the direction of her house. She knew that she would need to walk briskly to get back and begin her search.

"I'm not a monster," Jonathan snapped back. "Did you think I would tell you to solve this on your own? You're incapable of doing so."

Victoria didn't want to get into a fight with Jonathan that day. She chose to keep quiet and walk home besides him. Jonathan said nothing to her either, wondering what he would be missing in that afternoon's lecture. He supposed there was nothing else to say to her. She couldn't be consoled, and she would only find a way to yell at him,

They stepped into her house and Victoria instantly began to rummage through drawers in the kitchen. Jonathan stood in the doorway, looking around and trying to deduce what kind of a man Martin Daniels was. He must have been a smart one. A man who didn't want something found. He would hardly place something top secret in drawers.

No, it would be somewhere no one could find it unless they truly wanted it. He wouldn't make it inaccessible for he had to know that it might be needed one day. However, it would be somewhere the individual crook would never suspect.

"It won't be in the drawers," Jonathan informed Victoria. "I can tell you that now."

"Where else should I look?" Vicky wondered, bending over to take a look in the cupboard. Jonathan's eyes found her backside for a moment as he rolled his eyes. "I don't know what to do."

"Your father was a clever man, wasn't he?" Jonathan checked with Victoria.

"Yes," she said.

"Then you know that he would never have left some instructions to a toxin in your saucepan cupboard," Jonathan replied with a snap.

Vicky stood back up, her hands running through her curls as she looked back at him, worry etching across her face. Jonathan looked around the kitchen for any sign of something important to the family.

"Look, when you left your house in Chicago, did it have anything important in it? Was there anything left behind?"

"No," Vicky said. "Mom cleared everything into a removal van."

"Okay, so it should be here," Jonathan said. "Your dad must have known that he had to hide it well, but he wouldn't have put it somewhere where you and your mom couldn't find it. He must have known that it would need to be discovered one day."

"I don't know," Vicky said. "Why would he want it to be found again? He was so intent on it never been found."

"He risked his own life for it, that is true," Jonathan agreed. "I don't think he would risk your life with it. He doesn't seem that type of man to me. He must have known these men would have wanted the instructions eventually...and...he wouldn't let you die for them."

"So you're saying that they're in this house?" Vicky checked with him.

"I'm certain they are." Jonathan spoke, an air of cockiness surrounding him. "The question is where. They will be somewhere your average goon would never look."

"Right," Vicky said, looking around the kitchen and to the photo which hung on the wall by the kitchen table. Jonathan followed her gaze and beat her to the photo on the wall. He pulled a chair from the table and stood on it, dragging the photo down and opening the back of it to find it empty.

They spent the rest of the afternoon going through all the photo frames, checking them thoroughly before looking in the photo albums. Jonathan suggested her mother's room for some form of journal. Vicky burrowed in her mother's drawers, her search becoming hastier with each passing moment.

"You should go," Vicky said when the time reached nine at night.

She looked all the way through her drawers and her mother's cupboard. She had searched to no prevail. Jonathan was even becoming stumped. He shook his head at her, knowing full well that she'd be useless on her own. If he had let her be then she'd still be searching behind cushions and under the sofa.

"No," Jonathan replied haughtily.

Vicky had to admit that she was shocked. She didn't think that Jonathan would stay for this long. She didn't think that he had it in him to help her and be in her company for this long. But this was a test to Jonathan. It was a test which he didn't intend to back down on.

"Look...other places...things that your father loved...something like a book..."

"His books are in the attic," Vicky said and took to the stairs once more. She ran up and Jonathan saw the white wood covering the attic. He quickly lowered the steps and moved up, pressing the light switch and illuminating the room.

Vicky followed him, crawling in the small space before she found the box which contained her father's books. She pulled one out as Jonathan took another one into his hands. He flicked through the pages, trying to find something of use. Nothing seemed to come to him. Vicky's luck didn't seem to be working either. Jonathan found himself growing to be frustrated. His anger was slowly consuming him as nothing seemed to prevail. He refused to be beaten.

"What about something else?" Vicky asked Jonathan. "All of these books have nothing in them. There is nothing which is working, and we don't have a lot of time."

"I know," Jonathan said to her.

He finally saw the strain catching up with her. Her hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail and she had managed to rip her tights. She was looking a mess and she knew that her time was short. Jonathan left the attic with her in tow, raking his mind for something else.

Vicky spent the early hours of the morning searching through everything that she could find, but everything seemed hopeless. She checked the clock and saw that it was seven in the morning. Jonathan found himself exhausted and he wandered through the house and found her room.

Jonathan looked around the neutral coloured room. It was decorated quite sublimely. A wardrobe sat by the corner whilst a desk rested under the window. Books lined her bookshelves as Jonathan looked to them. The sunlight streamed in through her window, showing him how time was slowly becoming of the essence.

"Victoria!" Jonathan yelled to her.

"What?" she wondered back, her own voice curt and taut. She moved up the stairs, rubbing her eyes as she felt tears build in them. She moved into her room, noting Jonathan sat by her bookshelf, pulling out all the novels she owned.

"Which one is sentimental?" Jonathan asked her. "The book which you father used to read to you?"

Vicky looked through the shelf, knowing full well that her father had read most of the books to her when she was young. He didn't read lightly to her. He delved straight into the classics. Her favourite had always been Pride and Prejudice. She grabbed the book herself, rushing through it in desperation before shaking her head.

She grabbed another book as Jonathan did the same, determined to find it. But nothing happened.

Jonathan stood up, looking at her empty bookshelf and the piles of books on the floor. Vicky sat amongst the wreckage, her hand over her mouth as she stifled a sob. Jonathan watched her as the clock almost turned to eleven in the morning. They'd run out of time.

He stood with his hands on his hips as Vicky picked herself up. She had her hands on her head, her eyes red as she looked around her room. Jonathan noted the bear which sat on her pillow and he moved over to it, examining it for any sign of stitches. He couldn't see any sign of it being ripped open before.

Quickly, he moved his hands to pull at it, tearing it open as Vicky watched helplessly.

"It won't be in there," she drawled out, sitting at the foot of her bed as her phone began to vibrate on her desk. She looked over to it, her mind unable to comprehend what the call was going to be. She walked to the device and picked it up, pressing it to her ear.

She stood up and walked to the window.

"Have you found it, Anna?"

Vicky gulped loudly, looking into her back yard as she closed her eyes, the phone shaking in her hand. Jonathan kept quiet as Vicky pleaded for more time. His eyes glanced to the masses of books, noting one which sat on her bedside table which they had not looked at. It was hidden under her pills and jewellery. Rapunzel. Jonathan grabbed the book, looking to Vicky as she continued her pleas. He opened it with haste, noting that one page had been ripped out.

He flicked through, looking for something to come to him. It was only when he heard Victoria scream did he know it was too late. He turned to the next page and saw it. The method to create a fear toxin. Jonathan's mind was unable to understand what had just happened. He had been so close. They needed five more minutes.

He closed the book, keeping quiet before he stood up and saw Victoria tumble to the floor, her phone besides her as tears rolled down her cheeks. Jonathan had no idea what to do. He didn't know how to comfort her. He didn't want to comfort her. She kept crying by herself, guilt eating up at her.

"You did all you could," Jonathan whispered to her.

"No...she...I can't..." Vicky choked out as Jonathan moved to the door. "Don't." She called to him, stopping him in his tracks. "Please...don't leave me..."

Jonathan looked back at her, her eyes wide and watering. The tears continued to stream down her cheeks as he realised that she was weak. She was alone and weak. She did crave some form of comfort, and she thought he was it. He didn't want to tell her how wrong she was.

Jonathan nodded briskly, sitting back on her bed and watching as she sobbed to herself. She finally took herself to the point of exhaustion and collapsed with sleep. Jonathan did nothing for a few moments, wondering if he should tell her that he had found the toxin. He didn't know.

Intrigue got the better of him in the end. He opened the book again and pulled the page out, tucking it into his pocket, knowing full well that his discovery could change everything.

...

A/N: And so the plot progresses! Thanks to everyone who is following and who has reviewed! I hope you'll stick with me!


	8. Chapter 8

Jonathan didn't see Victoria in lectures ever again. He had seen her the day her mother had been murdered, and that had been it for months. She had called the police, telling them what had happened. Jonathan had stood at the doorway, giving his evidence as Vicky broke down. She thanked him for his help and Jonathan nodded.

Not once did he mention how he had found what had been sought after. Jonathan spent the rest of his year studying for his exams at the end of the year. He finally graduated with no one to watch him throw his cap in the air. Jonathan didn't care. He would have skipped the formalities if at all possible. Victoria didn't graduate. Jonathan didn't know what had happened to her, nor did he make an effort to find out.

He managed to wrangle a job at the university; Professor Bramowitz seemingly disappeared from the scene and Jonathan took his place. Many considered him too young to do it, but Jonathan had found it easy. He knew more than most Professors anyway. He was twenty three and successful. What more could he ask for?

The fear toxin was something which he had been working on for a while. A lot of time went into trying to perfect it. Yet there was one ingredient which Jonathan didn't have. One which he knew he would have to find someday. Before he knew it time had passed quickly. Another year had passed and Jonathan had found himself coming up to his twenty fourth birthday. He never said anything, choosing to keep quiet.

His mind had rarely returned to Victoria. He sometimes wondered what she was doing and where she was. He didn't wonder long for he saw her on that Christmas Eve. The annual staff party was coming up. Jonathan had tried to get out of it, but he had been told that he had no option but to join in for it was where work would be discussed with the dean of the university. He had groaned, of course, complaining of how he didn't want to go to himself. He often spoke to himself, deeming it the only way to keep his mind sane.

He dressed with haste, changing into his suit and fastening up the jacket to it. He climbed into his car and drove silently through the streets of Gotham, looking around as he went. He came to the fancy restaurant in less than thirty minutes. He looked up to the sign which read 'The Luxe' and groaned. Climbing from his car, he slammed the door shut and locked it before wandering inside.

Jonathan stood in the bar area, glancing through to the main restaurant area where the tables had been set up. He rolled his eyes at the pretentiousness of it all. He walked slowly into the tabled area, looking for his seat. No one had arrived yet. Jonathan supposed they wanted to be fashionably late. He considered them to be _just_ late.

He took a few moments to look around before he noted a pile of blonde hair on top of a waitresses head. He narrowed his eyes, noting shades of brown in her locks. She stood tall and tucked a loose strand behind her ear before she continued to set tables on her own. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he took a deep breath before moving closer to her.

She looked up from the table she had been decorating as she heard footsteps on the marble floor. Her gaze glanced up to meet his as she dropped the last knife to the white tablecloth. She would recognise those blue orbs anywhere. How long had they spent glaring at her for her idiocy?

"Victoria."

Jonathan whispered her name before he could stop himself. She folded her arms around her waist, acting as if she had suddenly turned cold at the mere mention of her name. Looking up, she inclined her head politely.

"Jonathan."

He took a second to get over the initial shock of seeing her after two years.

"How have you been?" Victoria wondered after a moment.

"Fine." Jonathan said. "You?"

"Coping," Victoria whispered, looking around the decorated room. "Anyway, are you here for the reception tonight?"

"Yes," Jonathan nodded. "I have a job at the university. I took over from Professor Bramowtiz in the Psychology department."

Victoria nodded in response, moving a hand through her hair, pushing some loose stands behind her ears. Jonathan took a few moments to observe her, wondering what more he should say. He supposed there was nothing more to their conversation. He could see how far she had fallen.

"I should get back to work," Victoria whispered. "The other guests should be here soon."

"Yes," replied Jonathan. "I suppose they will be."

Vicky bowed her head and moved through the reception room and back to the bar. Jonathan watched her leave. She tugged the bottom of her skirt down her legs to her kneecaps, her hands fiddling with her hair as per usual when she was nervous. Jonathan thought of the toxin which he had been perfecting for all those years. He thought about the moment he had found it. The moment Victoria's life had changed forever.

Jonathan spent the rest of the night watching with intrigue, his eyes set on everything that Victoria did. She spent most of her time walking around with champagne flutes on a tray. She caught his glance occasionally, always lowering her eyes as soon as she did. Jonathan's brow furrowed as he spoke with other professors. He did think of how she had changed. How she had become quiet and timid. It wasn't like her at all.

"What happened to you?"

Jonathan couldn't help but ask the question when he went to order another orange juice. She stood behind the bar, cleaning out glasses as everyone sat and enjoyed desert. It seemed Jonathan was the only one who had no time to enjoy festivities.

"You know what happened to me," Victoria snapped back. "I don't wish to talk about it."

"I never saw you again...after that morning..." Jonathan drawled out.

She grabbed an orange juice carton from the fridge behind her, sucking in a deep breath as she crouched down to get it. Jonathan refused to stop watching her, knowing full well that his mind was now intrigued.

"I didn't see why I should come back to study Psychology when I had no passion to do so," Vicky replied. "I couldn't come back...after that...I just couldn't do it..."

"What do you mean?" Jonathan wondered. "You couldn't come back, or you wouldn't come back?"

"Both," Victoria whispered.

She pulled a glass out from underneath the counter, filling it to the brim with orange juice.

"And so you're waitressing," Jonathan concluded, a sneer in his voice as he did so.

Victoria's harsh gaze found his. He noted the way she continued to glare at him with annoyance. He supposed some things would never change.

"I had no other choice," she whispered. "Look, you should go back to your party. I have things to do."

She pushed the orange towards him and placed the carton back in the fridge before moving off. Jonathan still stood and watched her until she rounded the corner.

Victoria stood around the corner of the bar, leaning against a wooden post and keeping out of sight. She closed her eyes, her hands resting behind her as she titled her head back. She didn't think it would be so hard to see Jonathan again. She went about the rest of her shift in silence, deciding that was the best thing to do.

As soon as the party ended she left. She grabbed her leather jacket from the back room and took her pay cheque too. She knew she wouldn't be keeping that for long. She never did. Holding down two jobs tired her out, but it kept her with a roof over her head, especially during the difficult economic climate.

She dropped her satchel on her shoulder and walked out of the restaurant, fiddling with the hair which sat in her messy bun.

"Anna."

She froze as soon as her normal name was called to her. She wondered if it was Jonathan demanding an answer again, but it was not. She took a moment to turn around, glancing back at the man who stood in the shadows of the car park. Pushing her hands into her pocket, she turned back to the man and rolled her eyes. She moved forwards, keeping her gaze level as she did so.

"What do you want, Bill?"

"You know what we want," he assured her. "We need to keep you on your toes...hounding you until you find what we need."

"You do know that two years have passed and nothing has changed? I still have no idea where the toxin instructions are."

"That's why we keep on doing this, Annalise. We need you to understand that this isn't over. It will never be over...not until we find the instructions."

"Why can no one else make it?" Vicky snapped. "There has to be someone else who was as clever as my father...someone else who can give you what you want."

"Not yet," he replied. "Apparently there is some secret ingredient needed to stop it from working."

"Is it not bad enough that your boss insists on taking everything I own?" Vicky hissed. "It's tiresome."

"Well, you have nothing left, do you?" he replied. "So, we'll be checking up on you in a few days time again. Your next big pay day is then, right? The boss will be happy. More money taken from you to leave you squirming."

"Whatever," Vicky said, beginning to push past him.

He said nothing, deciding to grab hold of her by the arm and haul her back to him. Vicky struggled to stay upright as he pushed her against the wall, tiring of her stubborn attitude as he did so.

"I don't think you understand who is in charge here," he whispered to her. "I'd hate to hurt you for being rude, Anna."

"No you wouldn't," Vicky hissed back. "Just let me go. You do what your boss tells you to do. "

"Is there a problem here?"

Victoria turned her gaze around to see Jonathan stood behind the man keeping her prisoner. She looked at his wide eyes, wondering what he intended to do. The man turned around, looking at the professor who had a brow arched in wonder.

"No problem," he said, releasing Vicky and looking to Jonathan, his hands held up in surrender. "No problem at all."

Jonathan kept quiet, his eyes following the man as he left them alone in the dark and empty car park. Vicky glared at his back until he was out of sight, only then did she push a shaking hand through her hair. Jonathan noticed her quivering body and he looked to the sky for a moment.

"Come on," Jonathan said, his tone sounding like a complaint, "you need a drink, and I need an explanation."

He turned on his heel and walked away, listening for her footsteps to follow him. She did so promptly.

...

A/N: Thanks to anyone reading and reviewing. Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

Jonathan sat opposite Victoria in the dive bar he had taken her to. She held a bottle of beer in her hands, resting her elbows on the table. Jonathan stuck to orange juice, not entirely trusting the drinks being served. He decided somewhere quiet and inconspicuous would suit their needs. He held his orange juice and looked over to her as she kept quiet.

Her eyes were fixed on the table beneath her, almost as if she was too frightened to look into his eyes. She didn't know why she had agreed to go with him. She'd followed him to his car and the drive had been silent. He'd asked her what she wanted to drink. She almost snapped at him when she had said a beer and he had rolled his eyes. He always would look down on her, Vicky knew that.

"What was that about in the car park?"

Vicky wondered how long it would take before the questions began to flow again.

"I'm in the same trouble my dad was," Vicky admitted, "they just won't kill me until the time is right."

"They still want the toxin?" Jonathan checked, "even though you don't have it?"

"Do you think people like Falcone ever give up?" Vicky drawled back, swigging the beer from the bottle. She tugged her leather jacket from her arms and dropped it on the space next to her. She looked back to Jonathan, her eyes wide and full of fear as she did so.

"So it is Falcone who wants it?"

"I don't know," Vicky said. "There's someone else who wants the method too...someone higher up or something. I don't know. Like I said; they just won't take no for an answer. Apparently there is some secret ingredient missing before the toxin can become perfect."

And didn't Jonathan know it. He was studying hard in a feeble attempt to find it for himself. He still struggled to believe that Victoria was in trouble because of the toxin. If she didn't have it after all this time then she never would have it.

"Why are they bothering?" Jonathan wondered, adjusting the glasses on the end of his nose. "It is clear that you don't know what they want. I mean...you're hardly the intelligent type, are you?"

"Thanks," Vicky snapped. "You never did think much to me."

"The feeling was reciprocated if I remember correctly," Jonathan snarled back to her. "I saw what happened to you, Victoria. You look worse than ever."

A bark of laughter escaped her as she drained the alcohol from the bottle and held her hand up to order another bottle. The bartender nodded and winked as she looked back to Jonathan.

"They shot my mother and left her body in the dumpster behind a club," Victoria said, her voice lacking any emotion. She had closed herself up throughout the years she had been alone. What other choice did she have but to do that? "Gotham is full of scum, but no one does anything about it. My mother was buried before anyone could blink an eye. The police left me, telling me that there was nothing they could do for me."

"And so you stopped coming to college."

"I hated Psychology anyway...all it is...it just provides an excuse for criminals to act in the way they do. I don't want excuses for anyone anymore," Victoria shook her head. "Half of them aren't insane, they're sane, but can't take responsibility for anything they have done. I'm tired of it."

Jonathan said nothing, regarding her for a moment before she shook her head and took the new beer which had been brought to her. She held it in her hands again, giving her something to twirl in her hands and entertain her. Jonathan watched as her curls fell into her face. Her face was gaunt and her eyes were wide.

"They took my mom from me," she whispered. "They took my house...left me with nothing...even now, they still pester me and take everything I earn. I have two jobs. I have an apartment in the Narrows."

"Why do they take your money from you?"

"To let me know that I'm never going to be left alone until they have what they want. They refuse to stop my suffering...but...it doesn't matter to me anymore. Nothing matters anymore, does it?"

"Why not leave?"

"Do you think I haven't tried?" Vicky wondered; sipping on her beer as Jonathan finished his orange juice. "Falcone owns this city. I'm a pawn in his game. A useless pawn, but a pawn nonetheless."

"He's a fool," Jonathan shook his head. "I cannot comprehend it."

"You don't need to," Vicky assured him. "It's my life, not yours."

"You're not living a life," Jonathan challenger her. "You're existing, but you are not living, are you? You're being hounded for something which you do not have."

Victoria couldn't say anything back to him, knowing full well that there was nothing more to say to him. She shrugged her shoulders and leant back against the booth, closing her eyes for a moment and running her hands through her blonde hair. Her gaze found Jonathan's again as he watched her with vague wonder.

"I suppose," she weakly agreed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I suppose there is nothing else to talk about," Jonathan brusquely said. "Perhaps you should see someone about this."

"Who? Doctor Barnard?" Vicky scoffed. "He kept calling after mom's death. He said he was worried about me, but I never went. I don't need some psychiatrist to tell me that I'm messed up."

"You're not messed up," Jonathan said. "In fact, I think you are coping rather well. Many others would have looked for an escape in the bottom of a whiskey bottle, or the barrel of a gun."

Vicky shuddered, not daring to think about anything like that. She didn't want to end her life. She was too scared to do that. It was not what she needed to do.

"Yeah, well," Vicky shrugged and finished off her beer. "I should get going. I have work tomorrow morning."

"Where else do you work?"

"A diner downtown," she mumbled. "I do the morning shift and then go to the restaurant in the evening. Not that it means anything to me. I don't get the money."

"Do you want a ride home?" Jonathan asked her.

She shook her head with haste. She didn't want to take advantage of him. She didn't know why she had gone for a drink with him. Maybe she really was lonely. It wouldn't surprise her. She had no one in her life. She was too scared to let anyone in. She didn't want anyone to be hurt because of her. She'd never live with herself if that happened.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'll walk home."

"In the Narrows? At night?"

"I know that it is dangerous," Vicky agreed with him, "but I do it every night. Nothing has happened yet."

"You always were stubborn."

"You didn't know me for that long."

"I knew you long enough to form an opinion of you," Jonathan replied. "You're not that difficult to read."

"Yeah, well," Vicky muttered and pushed herself from the seat.

She placed her jacket onto her shoulders and looked back to Jonathan for a brief moment, wondering what she should say to him before she left. She supposed she wouldn't see him again. Not that it would matter either way. They had never been best friends. He had never offered her comfort or friendship. Why should he start now?

"Take care of yourself," Jonathan urged her in a soft voice. He stood up and looked over to her, seeing a small smirk on her face as she nudged him in the side.

"I'm a big girl," she replied gently. "I've managed on my own for a while."

"I know," Jonathan said. "I thought it would be polite to offer you a kind gesture."

"And you are nothing if not polite," Vicky whispered, a smug look still on her face. "Tell me, do you still do what is expected of you, or what you want to?"

"A bit of both," Jonathan replied, refusing to bite at her comments. "In that case, I would take your cell number."

"Why?" Vicky asked him.

"Because you might need to talk to someone one day."

"And you're the ideal guy?"

"Do you have anyone else rushing to help you?" Jonathan asked, looking around for added emphasis. "Just do it, Victoria. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"You never came to me after that day. Why do you care now? Or have I suddenly become interesting?"

"You were always interesting," Jonathan challenged her. "Just never as desperate as you are now. And I didn't come because I knew you would need space. It was not my place to reach out to you, was it? I thought that you would have fled Gotham."

"I wish I had," she replied in a mumble. "I should have gone. I should have left and never came back."

"You should have," Jonathan nodded, "but you didn't. So give me your number."

Vicky pulled a simple phone from her pocket and passed it to him, allowing him to take her number.

"You don't need to care," she whispered. "Anyone close to me often gets hurt, as you know."

"I'll take that risk," Jonathan muttered.

He bid her goodnight and watched her walk off. A moment passed him and he wondered why he had shown that kindness to her. Jonathan wasn't known to be kind. He wasn't known to show compassion. Did a part of him feel guilty? She wouldn't be in this mess if he had told her what he knew. But he kept quiet. He never said anything to her.

He was the reason for her demise.

A small part of guilt came to him as a voice in his head told him not to be so foolish. It wasn't his fault. It was her father's fault.

Perhaps she could need Jonathan in the future.

He could perfect the toxin.

Maybe she could have revenge and then the guilt would stop.

...

A/N: Just a filler chapter for the moment. Thanks to everyone reading and thanks to anyone who reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

"You're not my psychiatrist."

"I could be."

"What is that meant to mean?"

"I have a new job. A job which means I have the role of being a psychiatrist."

Victoria looked over the beer bottle which sat in her hand and into his blue eyes as he told her of his sudden news. Of course he didn't want to tell her the reason why he had to search for his new job. Work at the college had been dull for a while. Jonathan had decided that the time had come to spice up the student's lives. He'd used a gun in one lecture and had been dismissed for it.

Little did he know that the dismissal would be one of the things which changed his life.

"You're a psychiatrist?" Victoria checked as she spoke to him after taking another swig of beer. It was all she seemed to drink when Jonathan met her in the dive bar.

"At Arkham Asylum."

She spluttered the gulp which she had just taken, the spray moving over the table. Jonathan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the sight of her. He handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. She cleaned herself up and kept the handkerchief in her hand, clutching it tightly as a moment of jealousy came over her.

Jealousy that he had managed to make something of his life.

"That place is full of crazies."

"Crazies?" Jonathan mused on the word before she shook her head and waved a flamboyant hand in the air.

"You know what I mean," she told him."I mean, aren't you a bit scared? I have to go past it on my way to work...and...well...just looking at it creeps me out."

"The people inside of it should scare you," Jonathan nodded sternly at her. "They're killers of the highest calibre. They would do anything to be free, I should suspect."

Victoria allowed her brow to furrow at hearing him. There was some part of her which couldn't comprehend what he was telling her. It almost sounded as if he was happy to work in somewhere like Arkham.

"You shouldn't sound happy about it, Jonathan. It just makes you sound like you're one of the inmates."

He hid the grin which wanted to form on his lips as he listened to her. She said nothing for a moment, grabbing a peanut from a bowl which sat in the middle of the table. Her thoughts turned to that night nine months ago. The night when Jonathan had made his presence known to her. The night they had met after college.

Ever since then he would insist on seeing her once a week. She didn't know why, but she didn't turn down the offer. She found that his company was acceptable in small doses.

"Well, work like this does seem to be complicated," Jonathan said. "I doubt Professor Bramowitz could have done it."

"Did you hear about him?" Vicky said, forgetting about her old Professor until Jonathan dragged him back into conversation again. She turned the bottle she held in her hands. "He was found dead in his apartment. Apparently the police have no idea how he died."

"We did hear something about that at the College," Jonathan said. "Sad thing, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," Vicky nodded. "I suppose it is sad."

"He always was a bit odd, I found," Jonathan told her. "It wouldn't surprise me if he found his end by hanging from his bedroom ceiling."

"Jonathan," Vicky complained to him. "Do you have to be so brash all the time?"

He looked back at her and forced himself to smile at her. He didn't need to force himself that much. His initial thought process behind seeing Victoria so often was to appease the guilt which he often felt at the thought of her. But now...now...now he seemed to be enjoying himself with her. He couldn't explain why. He didn't know if he wanted to explain why.

She was an odd creature to him.

She was so vulnerable, but she came across as strong. He supposed years alone had made her that way.

"It is needed in Psychology," Jonathan replied to her. "I'm also studying pharmacology too. Hopefully it will allow me to be able to administer the patient's drugs eventually. At the moment I can just advise what to give them."

"And I spent the morning serving greasy breakfasts. I suppose my life is nothing to be proud of."

"That is through no fault of your own," Jonathan replied, drinking his orange juice.

He looked over her shoulder to notice someone staring at the pair of them. Vicky followed his gaze before an audible groan escaped her. Jonathan looked to her as she looked into the depths of her bottle as if the problem would vanish.

"Who is he?"

"He will be wanting the latest pay cheque," Vicky whispered. "It's about time."

"Do you want to go?" Jonathan wondered from her.

She shook her head, closing her eyes as she did so. Jonathan watched her. He watched the desperation take over her as the man made his way to their booth and slid in next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as Victoria did nothing, tensing as she felt him play with the strands of her hair.

"Who is the date, Vic?" he wondered from her. "Boss says you've been with him for a few weeks."

"Jonathan Crane."

Jonathan spoke up for himself as he remained calm and collected, deciding that showing anger would not get this man to disappear. Jonathan had no idea what part he was in the mob's little game, but he didn't want to find out. He wanted nothing to do with them. He never would do.

"He's a bit fancy for you, isn't he, Vic?" the man wondered, daring to move his arm further down to grab her around the waist. His fingers curled around her hip as he forced her gaze to his, his hand squeezing her chin as he did so. "Don't you normally take some back alley boy to bed with you?"

"Get lost, Rob," she sneered at him.

He chuckled and released her chin, moving his hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ear.

"Feisty tonight, Vic," he commented.

"Perhaps you could just say what you want," Jonathan drawled. "Clearly you're making her uncomfortable."

"Nah," Rob replied, patting her on the hip. "Vicky needs to step outside with me for a moment. I need a word in private with her."

"I don't think so," Jonathan said, not trusting this man for a moment.

Vicky looked across to Jonathan, shaking her head as she did so.

"It's fine," she assured him. "I'll only be a minute."

Rob slid from the booth and waited for Vicky to follow him. Jonathan regarded her as she stood up and Rob allowed his hand to grope her ass as he led her out from the bar.

Jonathan remained where he was for a moment, finishing off his orange juice before he dared to follow them up the stairs. He didn't know what it was about Victoria. He didn't know why he felt inclined to help her. He'd never felt such an emotion before. He'd never been one to care about what happened to others. When it came to _her _he just couldn't help it.

He listened in as Rob demanded her latest pay packet and he bid her goodnight in a crude manner. Jonathan continued to lurk around the corner for a few moments before he realised the Vicky wasn't coming back in willingly. He took the final step around the corner and saw her stood against the brick wall, deep breaths forming small clouds in front of her due to the cold air.

She had her eyes closed and her bag dropped by her side in the middle of the alley. Jonathan could see that she was crying. He could see that she was slowly having a mental breakdown. He couldn't help but feel pity for her.

He watched as she bent down and moved into her bag, pulling out a bottle of pills from it. She pulled the lid off of them and popped one into her mouth. Jonathan guessed that they were antidepressants. It seemed likely.

"Victoria."

He finally made his presence known to her. She turned her head to look at him, quickly placing the bottle back in her bag. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the satchel, urging for the pills to go back into the pocket they came out of. Her bag was so full that she spilt the bottle to the floor, watching as the lid fell off and the pills scattered on the floor.

She cursed under her breath as she began to pick at the pills. Jonathan watched for a moment, wondering if he had seen such a depressing site in all of his years. He doubted it.

He moved over to her and picked the pills up with her. He saw her hands continue to shake as she dropped the pills she was picking up.

"Victoria," Jonathan repeated her name, his fingers slipping around her wrists. His cold skin against hers made her shudder as her legs slumped beneath her and she finally allowed her sobs to come out. She moved the back of her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the noises coming from her. She failed miserably as Jonathan kept his hands around her wrists, wondering what would happen if he let go of her.

"He...I don't have enough for rent..." Vicky admitted to Jonathan. "I don't have any money...they...the rent went up...I..."

"I see," Jonathan told her.

He looked to her gaunt face before he dared to move closer to her.

And then she did something she never thought she would do again. She openly began to sob in front of Jonathan Crane.

He did nothing, not too sure how to handle the situation as he released her wrists and she pushed her hands through her hair. He finished picking the pills up and placing them in her bag. He stood up and offered her his hand.

She took it and stood in front of him, swaying slightly as she did so. Jonathan stood in front of her, his hands holding her waist to keep her upright on her feet. He said nothing to her as his hands felt the soft skin beneath her short white blouse.

"You need to get out of here," Jonathan urged her. "You need to do something."

"I can't," she gurgled. "I don't know where to go...I don't know what to do..."

"Come on," Jonathan told her, releasing her waist. "I'll go and get your coat. You're in no fit state to walk home."

She watched as he turned his back on her to go into the club. She couldn't help but think he was walking away from her. The thought scared her more than she cared to admit. Since when did she need Jonathan Crane? Since when did she become so needy?

"Don't leave me."

She could scarcely believe the words had tumbled from her mouth, but they had. Jonathan turned around to look back at her, pushing his glasses further onto his nose as he did so. Her worried orbs found his confused ones as she hugged herself in the cold air.

"I won't," Jonathan said. "I promise you."

Vicky continued to stare at him as he took a deep gulp and moved back into the club to fetch her jacket. He picked the leather material up and found Victoria in the coldness again. He draped the jacket over her shoulders before he rested his hands on her shoulders.

"You can't stay alone tonight," Jonathan whispered to her, his hands staying on her shoulders and rubbing the leather material there. "I'll stay with you tonight, Vicky."

"I'll be fine in a while...just...tonight was really bad."

"Every night is bad," Jonathan replied to her. "You're in a dire situation...maybe it will get better one day."

"I doubt it," Vicky replied, a small snort escaping her as she held the lapels of her jacket. "I can manage on my own. You don't need to babysit me."

"I do," Jonathan said.

For a moment he feared what would happen to her if he left alone. He feared she would crack too soon. Then it would be his fault if she did. He said nothing as she moved her arms and wrapped them around his waist. She didn't know why she did it. She supposed she needed to thank him for being there, and this was the only way she could.

Jonathan stiffened as he felt her hug him. He didn't know why she had done it. He wished she hadn't as a moment of guilt flooded him. He said nothing before he dared to wrap his own arms around her, his posture still stiff as he did so.

But as she kept hold of him he could feel the guilt leave him. He felt a moment of peace.

...

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! No updates for 10 days due to holiday, but do let me know what you think in the meantime!


	11. Chapter 11

Jonathan couldn't help but wrinkle his nose when he entered her apartment block. He didn't know if he could even call it an apartment. The block her home was located in was derelict, full of empty whiskey bottles and cigarette packets. Victoria led him up the stairs, completely silent as she went.

He observed her intently, watching her every move as she fiddled in her bag with the keys to the room. She unlocked the door and Jonathan saw that the numbers had fallen from the red wood. He said nothing on the matter, deciding to keep quiet before he shut the door.

Her apartment was as clean as possible. There was hardly anything in it; only the bare necessities to keep her going. She stood in the middle of the room, her arms folded as she watched him. She had dropped her bag to the floor by her feet along with her jacket.

Jonathan watched her for a moment before venturing further into her apartment. It was only a one bedroom place. A bed sat by the wall under the window whilst a small chair sat in the other corner. There was a litter of books by her bed on the floor, all of them stacked on top of each other.

"I know what you're thinking," Victoria declared. "I'm thinking the same. I know that it is a crap hole. There is nothing more I can do...I can hardly downgrade, can I?"

Jonathan decided to say nothing. He knew that there was nothing that she could do. She already lived in the middle of the Narrows. Jonathan suspected the only place lower was the streets.

"I'm sorry," Victoria decided to say. "This is not your mess. It is my own fault."

"It is hardly your own fault," Jonathan replied to her. "Your father was the one who made this contraption."

"But he did not ask to be involved in this," Vicky defended him. She always defended her parents. Yes, the years had passed, but Victoria still felt as though she was a little girl.

"None of you did," Jonathan replied, deciding to make himself a drink.

He wandered over to the small counter and found a glass in the first cupboard he opened. He took hold of another glass on the worktop and filled it with water. He handed the first one to Vicky. He could feel her watching his every movement.

She wondered why he was doing this. She wondered why he had decided to help her. It was true that he had been pleasant and polite towards her for the past few weeks. They'd both been meeting for a while and he had seemed to lighten up in her presence. She didn't know why, but she no longer felt awkward when she was with him.

"Thanks," Vicky said in response to the water. "Honestly, I'll be fine in another hour or so. I don't need you to babysit me anymore, Jonathan."

"You are not alright," Jonathan rolled his eyes. "You're in big trouble, Vicky. You're in more trouble than you care to admit you're in."

"I...I..." she stammered back to him, a small smile on her face as she did so. She knew that if she didn't smile then she would cry. She would cry for ages. She often found herself doing that.

"Look," Jonathan said to her. "There may be a position open at Arkham. I don't know, but there could be."

"Arkham?" she checked with him. "I mean...with those..."

"Crazies?" Jonathan repeated her previous phrase to him. Shaking her head, she did nothing for a few moments, choosing to stand there and hold her glass of water to her lips. "Think about it, Victoria. You need the money. Arkham will be better paid than waitressing."

"I guess," Vicky agreed. "I doubt there are any openings. Everyone in this god damned city is looking for a job."

"You never know," Jonathan told her, taking it upon himself to sit down in her chair. She decided to perch on the edge of her bed, waiting for him to say something to her.

"That would be nice," Vicky nodded, forcing herself to smile at him. That seemed to be the polite thing to do at that moment in time. She nodded hastily before smirking. "As long as they don't make me your PA. I doubt we'd be any good working together."

Jonathan allowed a chuckle at hearing that, shaking his head back and forth as he reclined back in the seat, crossing his legs and balancing the glass on the arm of the chair.

"We never were," Jonathan reminded her. "You spent half of your time in the library looking confused."

"I genuinely was," she said.

"No," Jonathan disagreed. "I think you were determined not to understand because you hated Psychology."

Victoria said nothing back to him for a moment, knowing full well that he was right. She had to roll her eyes. When was Jonathan wrong? She doubted he even understood what that word meant. She sure as hell knew it more than he did.

"You did well for yourself," Vicky spoke. "I mean, you managed to get a job in something that you love."

"Well, it didn't come without its hardships," Jonathan promised her, draining his water and standing up and again. Vicky did the same, deciding to follow suit. Jonathan placed his glass down on her worktop before looking back to her.

"I will come back tomorrow evening," Jonathan told her. "To make sure...well..."

"You don't need to."

"You keep saying that," Jonathan replied. "Have you ever thought that I enjoy your company?"

Vicky kept quiet for a few moments, his response taking her off guard. How did it come to this? How did she end up having Jonathan as her only friend? She didn't know. She had no idea. She moved closer to him, knowing that she wasn't acting on her own accord. She couldn't help but drift closer to him.

"That's surprising," Vicky said, looking straight forwards and seeing the tie which sat against his chest. Jonathan remained calm and controlled as he looked down at the top of her blonde curls. "We could hardly stand each other in college."

"Well," Jonathan drawled, "time changes us."

"Apparently so," Vicky nodded and looked up into his cold eyes. She said nothing for a second as Jonathan stared back at her, his mind clearly elsewhere as she dared to peck him on the cheek. Her lips rested on the clean shaven skin for a few seconds. Jonathan's spine stiffened as she pulled back from him and looked around nervously.

"You must be right," Vicky whispered. "Time does change us."

Jonathan said nothing to her as he nodded in agreement, digging around in his coat pocket for his car key. He dragged it out from the material and looked back to her.

"Look after yourself," he urged her. "I will see you tomorrow, Victoria."

Jonathan turned on his heel and let himself out, walking with haste out of the apartment block. His fingers found themselves moving to his cheek, resting on the place where she had kissed him. He couldn't resist the smug grin which came from him when he thought about the contact. If only she knew what he had done.

Moving back to his car, he kept his head down before he saw a figure lurking beside his vehicle. He could recognise it with ease. It wasn't difficult.

"Rob, isn't it?" Jonathan asked; his voice full of confidence.

Rob watched as the man stood in front of him, his hands by his sides and a brow arched. Jonathan adjusted the glasses which sat on his nose before widening his eyes and waiting for an answer.

"What are you doing getting involved with a girl like Vicky?" Rob dared to ask Jonathan. "You need to watch out. She's trouble, and you will do well to remember that. Just consider this a kind warning."

"Considered," agreed Jonathan. "However, I do think that you should consider a warning yourself."

The cocky smile was soon back on Rob's face as he listened to the man stood opposite him. He knew without a doubt that he could have Doctor Crane lying on his back without a second thought.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Jonathan said. "You see, Vicky really doesn't have anything to give you. Me, on the other hand, well, I could help you."

"Could you really?" Rob wondered, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yes," Jonathan nodded. "You see, Vicky doesn't really have anything that you want. She's a waitress."

"A fit one," Rob added. "Tell me, is she screwing you yet?"

Jonathan decided to ignore the crudeness of the man across from him, shaking his head back and forth with an air of disgust surrounding him.

"She doesn't have the method to the toxin. She never did."

Rob's head tilted to the side as he waited for Jonathan to continue with his sudden revelation.

"What are you talking about? Do you know something?"

The satisfied smirk came over Jonathan as he shook his head and looked to the ground for a moment. Looking back up, he met Rob's gaze with an equal amount of power.

"I have the toxin. I have what your boss wants."

Rob's eyes seemed to light up. What other option did Jonathan have? He suspected none. He needed the guilt to leave him eventually.

"Well, you'd best follow me."

...

A/N: So thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far and who is following. I do hope that you will review and let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Jonathan sat in his office the follow day, looking to the syringe that he had used the previous night. It sat on his desk, glaring at him constantly. Jonathan thought back to the previous night. He thought back to how he had injected the man they called Rob with the toxin.

It had worked. It had worked perfectly. The man had been found the following morning, complaining about spiders crawling all over his body. Jonathan had gone to work to find that he had been admitted to Arkham Asylum that day.

He wasn't surprised, of course. Jonathan had no intention of allowing the man to run away with his sanity still intact. He had no intent in allowing Rob to terrorise Victoria anymore. It helped Jonathan's guilt slightly. It helped him to know that he could aid Victoria. Of course he knew that the mob would be after her soon enough. Falcone would find out about Rob and then he would go to Victoria. He would demand answers.

Jonathan just knew that he had to be there to intercept Falcone. Victoria didn't have the answers that he wanted from her. Jonathan did.

Crane was curious as to what he wanted. There had to be some strange reason behind Falcone requiring the toxin. Jonathan wanted to know what it was. He longed to know more than anyone was letting on to.

He finished off his paperwork for the moment and stood up, sliding his jacket over his brown pullover. He decided to go for a light lunch at the restaurant where Victoria worked, hoping to find her on her dinner break. For once his luck was in.

He took a seat by himself and Victoria came out after a moment, her leather jacket on her body before she caught his eye. She looked confused for a moment or two but he didn't say anything. He waited for her to move over to him. She took a seat opposite him in the spare chair.

"What are you doing here?" she wondered.

"Have lunch with me."

He said it as though it was more of a demand than a request. Victoria looked down at the prices of the food and shook her head.

"I'm not hungry," she whispered.

She may work for the restaurant but she never got anything for free. She had learned a long time ago that nothing in life was free.

"I'll pay," Jonathan replied after seeing the shock on her face. She kept silent for a few moments and shook her head. She kept silent before shaking her head. She refused to let him buy her dinner. He had often bought her a drink, but never anything so pricey before.

"No," Victoria replied definitely. "I don't want anything, honestly."

"Victoria," Jonathan spoke her name lowly. "Just order something, will you? It doesn't matter. I need to talk to you."

"Oh?" Vicky said, giving in to his request and picking up the menu. Jonathan poured her a glass of water from the jug that sat in the middle of the table before he looked across to her. She picked a chicken salad. It was one of the cheapest things she could pick.

"Rob will not be bothering you again," Jonathan informed her and she arched a brow.

She looked to him before shrugging her leather jacket from her shoulders. She draped it over the back of her chair and waited for a few moments for Jonathan to explain himself. It was only then when her eyes widened and she leaned forwards.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" she whispered and Jonathan rolled his eyes at hearing her.

"Of course not," he replied. "Do you think that I could kill anyone, Victoria?"

He was intrigued to hear her answer. He didn't think that he could kill anyone. But he never thought that he could drive anyone insane either. Apparently he had been able to. Jonathan dared to look around the restaurant before his vibrant blue eyes found Vicky's dull orbs.

"He was admitted to Arkham Asylum this morning," Jonathan informed her.

Her orbs widened and she shook her head as she heard him. She picked up her water and sipped on it.

"Why?" she wondered. "What's wrong with him...aside from being a creep, of course?"

"He was found in an alleyway this morning," Jonathan nodded at her. "I have no idea what happened, but he is muttering about spiders all of the time."

"What?" Vicky muttered as soon as she had heard him. "I don't understand, Jonathan. Is there an explanation to it?"

"None that I can think of," Jonathan lied to her and the waitress came over to take their order. She pulled at the black notebook from her skirt and then her eyes found Vicky.

"I didn't know you were staying here for lunch," she informed her and Victoria nodded and looked back across to Jonathan as he pulled his glasses from his eyes.

"I wasn't going to, but I bumped into Jonathan. He's a friend from college, Lucy," Victoria explained. "I didn't know he was going to be here."

"I hadn't planned on being here," Jonathan informed her. Lucy looked down to Jonathan and she couldn't help but look at his wide blue eyes. There was something hypnotic about them. Lucy did wonder if Victoria was going to make a move on him. If not then Lucy would most certainly like to have a go.

He was handsome, she couldn't deny it. But he wasn't typically handsome. There was something about him that was mesmerising. He placed his glasses back on and handed Lucy the menu.

"I'll have the lamb, well done," Jonathan said and looked across to Victoria, his brow arched as he waited for her to state her order.

Victoria looked up to Lucy before she spoke;

"I'll have the chicken salad," Vicky said.

Lucy knew it was the cheapest thing on the list. Clearly she didn't want Jonathan Crane to be paying for her, proving that this was no date. Lucy smirked and nodded, looking between the pair of them for another moment.

"Is that everything?"

"I should imagine so," Jonathan nodded, his eyes only looking at Victoria as Lucy scurried away.

Victoria smirked and ran a hand down her hair before looking to Jonathan. She rested her elbow on the table and placed her hand in her chin.

"I think Lucy has taken a shining to you," Victoria informed Jonathan.

She continued to run her free hand down her hair whilst Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"She will be asking if we're dating when I go back to work," Victoria informed him in a drawl. "Of course, I can tell her that you're not interested if you'd like."

"What do you want to tell her?" Jonathan dared to ask Victoria, his voice one of cockiness and confidence. He kept his gaze on her and his hands in his lap, waiting for her to reply to him. She shook her head and lowered her eyes to the table.

"It is not my business," Victoria responded. "Lucy is a lovely girl really. I fear that you may be too brash for her."

"What makes you say that?" Jonathan wondered from her.

"You've always been brash," Victoria replied. "Even in college you were harsh on everyone. You haven't changed that much, I've just learnt how to handle you."

"Have you really?" Jonathan wondered, amused that she thought she knew him so well. She really did have no idea, but he didn't intend to tell her of that. He didn't intent to tell her what she didn't need to know.

"I would like to think so," Victoria whispered. "I've never seen you with anyone before."

"Well," Jonathan said, a smirk forming on his plump lips, "not everything has changed since college. You will find that work comes before anything else."

That was a lie. If he cared for work so much then he wouldn't be eating lunch with Victoria. He wouldn't be sat opposite her, studying every movement that she made. He couldn't explain why he was by her side so much. He feared that he was beginning to enjoy being with her too much.

"At least I can now stand to be around you," Vicky whispered back. "Anyway, we were talking about Rob. So what-"

"-There is nothing to say about Rob," Jonathan interrupted Victoria. "He is not important, Victoira. All that matters is that he is in Arkham. I shall do my best to find out what happened to him. It is normal for people to have mental breakdowns though."

"You said that he is whispering about spiders," Vicky replied. "I think that is more than a breakdown, Jonathan."

"Well, it could be anything. I will perform some tests when I go back and try to find out. I just thought that you ought to know what happened, hence why I'm here," Jonathan responded lamely.

"You could have phoned," Vicky replied as the food was set down in front of them. Jonathan nodded in agreement and sipped his water again.

"I could have," he agreed. "But I thought that I should make sure you were safe after last night."

She looked down to her lap, not wanting to think about the previous night when she had been cleaned out of money. She wondered when her next pay cheque was. She needed more money with desperation.

"So what does this mean?" Vicky wondered from Jonathan. "Will...well...Falcone will ask questions, won't he?"

"Yes," Jonathan told her. "You tell him that you know nothing. It is no lie, Victoria. You have no idea what happened to Rob."

"And if he doesn't believe me?" Vicky replied, her worry beginning to show again.

Jonathan shook his head at her and he moved to refill his glass.

"He will have no other option but to believe you," Jonathan said. "In the meantime, I intend to be with you until he makes a move."

"And why would you do that?" Vicky wondered.

"Because I do not want to see you hurt," Jonathan truthfully told her.

Victoria's eyes watched Jonathan for a few moments, taking in his vacant expression and his look of seriousness. Jonathan Crane wasn't a man to joke.

They ate their lunch with amicable conversation before Jonathan stood up and Vicky glanced to the clock. She had ten minutes until she went back onto shift. She walked with Jonathan to the door before the doctor turned around to look at her. They stood a small distance apart from each other and Victoria smiled.

"Thank you for lunch," Vicky said politely. "When shall I see you again?"

"Are you that eager for my presence?" he teased her and she nudged him in the shoulder.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"I'll see you tonight," Jonathan promised her. "I'll come around after work. Don't bother to insist otherwise, Victoria. I won't listen to you."

"I know that now," she scoffed and looked over her shoulder to see Lucy stood in the foyer and handing out menus to two people before she led them to their seats. Jonathan followed her gaze and shook his head, moving closer to her and brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

"You're doing that on purpose," she told him as his knuckles brushed against her skin. "You know that Lucy is watching."

"I know," Jonathan assured her. "Judging by your involuntary shiver I cannot help but think that you don't mind, regardless of my motives."

Vicky rolled her eyes and Jonathan finally tucking the strands behind her ear. He didn't think it possible to have this amount of power over someone. To see them putty at his own touch. He rather enjoyed it.

"Be quiet," she muttered and began to move her hand to wrap around his wrist and pull him from her. Jonathan was quicker; he grabbed her wrist in his limbs and then pulled her closer to him.

"Lucy isn't watching," Vicky whispered to him. "You don't need to keep doing this."

"At least she will realise that I am not interested."

"Yes, but now she will think that there is something going on between us two," Jonathan responded in a low voice.

He leant down to whisper in her ear before his hand squeezed onto hers;

"Isn't there?" he wondered and released her.

She was too in shock at what she had just witnessed to question him. He backed away with a confident look on his face and she stood where she was, wondering what had just happened between the pair of them.

...

A/N: I know that I haven't updated this story in a while, but if you are still reading then do let me know what you think!


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